


A Shade of Infinite

by manic_intent



Category: Blade (Movie Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hannibal King is a Vampire, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-06
Updated: 2010-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is actually a set of old fics that I did for the Blade fandom (smallfandomfest and vampire bigbang) that averzierlia asked me to put on AO3 for easy reading.  Hannibal King is House Talos' enforcer.  There's nothing more he likes out of life than killing other vampires... until now. Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally an AU written for IJ's porn battle. I've enclosed the ficlet in the notes because it's so short.  
> \--  
> Drake slipped quietly out of the revelry as quickly as he could, disgusted by the state of his progeny and vaguely tempted to return to his slumber; squirrel up somewhere unreachable, this time, at the heart of this earth, or at the very edges of the deep ice. Scowling, preternatural senses choked by thick perfume, the blood-copper, and dusty arousal, Drake turned to head out to a balcony overlooking the human city of glass and metal fingers. He took two deep, sweet breaths to clear his mind, even if he didn’t need the air, and tilted his head, very slightly.
> 
> It should have been warning enough that he wanted his privacy, but instead, the vampire he could sense behind, above him, merely shifted on his perch atop a gargoyle on the archway. “I was here first.”
> 
> No servility in the tone, only veiled wariness. Intrigued, Drake turned, glancing up. A male vampire, slender, limbs loosely crossed over the gargoyle’s thick neck, shoulders slouched back against stone. Hip hugging jeans, a sleeveless, black vest, and a pair of guns, slung from holsters at the waist. 
> 
> Drake sniffed the air again, scenting. Danica Talos had introduced this one as one vampire in a long chain of vampires, and he had been bored, hungry, and irritable enough not to remember. This vampire’s eyes were unafraid, a predator – a predator of its own kindred, Drake recalled. “The Enforcer.”
> 
> “That’s me.” The vampire sounded cocky, though he clearly didn’t dare look away. “Danica points, I dust. We have a nice arrangement. Someday I might even get to dust her.” A smirk this time, challenging him. It wasn’t allegiance or fealty in the way Drake was used to, only an offer of alliance. Between equals. 
> 
> Curious. “Do you know who I am?”
> 
> “Everyone and their mother in the vampires' little boys and girls club knows who you are, Daddy,” the vampire drawled.
> 
> “And your name?”
> 
> “Hannibal King.” The long legs crossed again, and as an afterthought, King added, “Sir.” 
> 
> “Who sired you?”
> 
> “Danica. I think it was Danica, anyway. Is a nagging instinct to throw up whenever you enter your sire’s presence normal?”
> 
> “No,” Drake said dryly, amused. “Why are you not at the function?”
> 
> “I’m permanently disinvited from functions, Lord Drake,” King said with mock sadness, “I seem to have this uncontrollable urge to start shooting vampires when I’m bored. My shrink says I wasn’t hugged enough as a baby.”
> 
> “Unlike the others, you are not afraid of me.”
> 
> “Could say I’ve killed enough of our own not to be afraid anymore.” King patted his guns briefly. “Want to try me? I mean, I’m sure you’ll kick my ass from here to Pluto, but I’m bored. And I think I said I have this urge when I’m bored.”
> 
> “Very well.” His sense of angry ennui, Drake realized, with some mild surprise, was drifting, dissipating in the next when King leapt nimbly off the gargoyle, all guns blazing. 
> 
> Approximately twenty-five minutes later, Hannibal King was bucking eagerly under Drake, guns forgotten and lengthened teeth bared in pleasure; as Drake ground deeper, with a low snarl, King answered with a growl and fingers raking bloody down his back.
> 
> “Can I still call you Daddy?”
> 
> “Be silent.”

 

Blood Magic

I

 

“The memories are a little shot.Maybe I was a firefighter! Or a kung fu master.Or an ice cream man.”

 

Hannibal King was the most _restless_ vampire – or human – that Drake had ever met. Be it in battle or in bed, he exuded a sense of tightly wound energy that kept him in a constant state of motion, physical or (usually) verbal.Simple questions, such as his current expressed idle curiosity about who King had been prior to being turned, came back with rambling and often unrelated answers.

 

Lounging on a low divan next to the Esperanto skyline, Drake noted Danica’s scowl from his peripheral vision, from the armchair closest to the exit, and Asher’s smile in the chair beside her seemed forced.It was obvious that the two of them disliked the liberties that Drake allowed King, even if he hadn’t shown any outright favor to date.

 

King’s endless energy was… intriguing.And, if Drake had to admit it, addictive.Vampires grew sluggish with time, but snide comments from Danica indicated that King had remained unchanged.

 

“He was a private detective, Lord Drake,” Danica said coldly.“Investigating a drug ring that happened to be run by Talos.It didn’t turn out well.”

 

King’s smile was sharp and tight.“For me, or you?”

 

“Don’t be insolent, King,” Danica snarled, already on the edge of her patience. Had King not been useful to her with his skills and reputation, Drake supposed with some amusement that she would have long tried to have King killed permanently.“You were just one of the toys at Blue Velvet until we promoted you.We can just as easily put you back there.”

 

“ _Pretty_ sure that I was ‘promoted’ due to an incident which ended up with a number of patrons decorating the walls,” King said, feigning an expression of deep thought.“Made by whiskey bottles.That was some good whiskey, though.A pair of Macallans.If I could’a done that again, I would have used the cheap cleanskins you guys water down and sell as the house red.”

 

“ _You-_ ”

 

“And what incident was that?” Drake asked idly, cutting through Danica’s fury.He didn’t bother to stare the female vampire down, but the aggression scent faded as he shifted in his seat.

 

“Some table had brought over a pair of human girls that they were going to gang rape and then drain dry.One of them used to be a client of mine.” King wrinkled his nose.“I think I helped her find her Chihuahua or something.You can’t say that Hannibal King doesn’t provide complimentary follow-on service.”

 

“I thought you said you didn’t remember who you were.”

 

“Did I say that?” King asked innocently, always toeing the line of outright insubordination, but even as Danica hissed and Asher muttered anxiously to himself, Drake snorted, untroubled and amused.A vampire from his bloodline with spine was a rare find, even before he had slept.

 

“A-anyway, about our proposal, Lord Drake,” Asher said quickly, clearly trying to change the subject.

 

“It has its merits,” Drake said idly.The Talos clan had long harbored plans to take over Esperanto outright, by turning humans into mere bloodbanks, coming out of the shadows.They were hindered by powerful foes – someone called the Daywalker, and his allies.The situation was not new to Drake by any measure, and as before, he could guess at its ending.“But it is flawed.”

 

“Lord Drake-”

 

“My bloodline has existed for this long not because we are powerful, but because we are a small enough species that the humans can afford to disbelieve in us,” Drake said flatly.“Were they to band together, there are far more humans than vampires, and I wish to _keep it that way_.As I once instructed the House of Erebus.”

 

Eyes wide, Danica sank back into her chair at Drake’s steely stare.The Talos clan was an old clan, and Drake had known its progenitor, a surly, unforgiving brute of a vampire that had taken no nonsense from any creature walking the earth, even his own Lord.It was a pity to see what Talos’ line had fallen to, that Danica bit down on her lip and did not retort.

 

Talos had died festooned by silver spears, in a disastrous battle against an uprising in Transylvania.That, along with a few other factors, had convinced Drake that outright rule was not worth the effort.Humans were too many, and they were canny; their short lives gave them energy to invent weapons to battle his kind, and worse, some of them were arcane-capable.

 

“Think of it this way,” Drake said dryly, “How long is the lifespan of a bloodbank human? According to your research.”

 

“We… we can keep one alive for years.Perhaps half a decade.” Asher had even less of Talos’ steel than Danica, if that was possible.

 

“And in the meantime, the vampires grow in number.Eventually, perhaps, we will outnumber our constantly dwindling food source.And then we starve and die out.” Drake drummed his fingers impatiently on the mahogany armrest of the divan.

 

“That… that aside,” Asher murmured, “The vampire hunters are still a problem.”

 

“Vampire hunters have always been a problem.They grow to become a large problem only when we pose enough of an outright risk to be feared.As your ancestor Talos found to his regret.” Drake turned his gaze back to the city.“If any vampire of yours dies to a hunter, then I deem him too weak to carry my bloodline.”

 

“So much for crying to Daddy?” King quipped, and Danica hissed.

 

“ _You_ couldn’t defeat Blade, King.”

 

“Well, about that,” King said breezily, “He had these awesome Air Jordans, while I have these tired old Reeboks, and when he dunks, he really _slam_ dunks.”

 

Sometimes, Drake was _almost_ sure that King’s incomprehensible slang was a mere tool to frustrate his sire.“Blade?”

 

“The Daywalker, Lord Drake.” Asher said in his servile tone.“He is a threat to all vampires.We have sent King against him a few times, all to no avail.”

 

“One would almost think that the Enforcer has not been… trying his best,” Danica continued, venomous, and even as King smiled thinly, Drake noted his fingers twitching briefly towards his holsters.

 

Aggression-scents and caution-scents spiked, from _King_ , where he had sensed nothing of the sort before in any of their sparring, or even in the incident two nights back when Danica had ordered a hit on a vampire that had overstepped its trading bounds, and Drake had followed to watch out of boredom.King was concerned.Wary.

 

Surprising.

 

“Hold.” Drake said sharply.“I would like to meet this Blade.Arrange it.”

 

“It will be done,” Danica said smugly.“My Lord.”

 

“And leave us.I have a private matter to discuss with King.”

 

Danica’s sour expression when Asher and herself left the room wasn’t lost on King, who rocked back on his heels once the heavy wooden door closed, snickering.“Did you see that? It was like she bit into a fermented _lemon_.”

 

“Why haven’t you killed Blade?”

 

“About the Air Jordans-”

 

“You didn’t want to kill him,” Drake observed.“And he didn’t want to kill you.”

 

Wariness-aggression but still no fear, strangely enough.King had his feet flat on the thick carpet, and even if his hands were loose by his side, Drake instinctively prepared himself for a fight.“I like to kill vampires.It’s fun.They last longer when you bat them around.”

 

“Three days ago you met Blade at a warehouse in the docks district.You told him about me,” Drake said mildly.“You warned him.”

 

“Is this the part where I have to run away via a dramatic dive out of a thirty-fourth storey window?”

 

“You don’t drink fresh blood, only from those packs, which I’ve been told you purchase yourself from the human hospitals,” Drake continued, rolling to his feet.King took a step back, crouching, though he didn’t make a reach for his guns.“You kill your own kind and you’re assisting another one who does the same.It’s clear that there’s no love lost between yourself and your sire.Yet you’ve stayed with the Talos clan.Why?”

 

There was still enough of a thread – however watered down, however bastardized – of his blood left even now that he could exert some influence; enough that King didn’t even realize that he had been backed up against a wall until Drake planted his palms to either side of his head.King’s teeth were bared, but out of perhaps a sense of self-preservation he had yet to draw his guns.Instead of fear, there was the heady scent of growing _arousal_ , and King licked at his own lips as he tried to drag his eyes up from Drake’s neck.

 

“Danica’s my sire.I can’t disobey her will.” King shuddered as Drake nuzzled him, over the bite scar on his neck.“I’ve tried.”

 

“You’re trying to use Blade to kill her.”

 

King clenched his teeth, fighting the ancient link, and mutely, Drake watched him struggle for a heartbeat longer before loosing his hold.King sagged against the wall, gasping for unnecessary air, wild-eyed, flinching when Drake dug a nail into the bite scar, drawing blood.

 

“What do you know about our rituals, King?”

 

“R-rituals?” King stared, hypnotized, as Drake popped his finger back in his mouth.King’s blood was cool and dead, without the sharp life-force of a human’s, but Drake bent down to press his tongue against the scar.King’s voice pitched higher.“Lord _Drake_.”

 

“So much has been lost.Our rules.Our customs.La Magra’s edicts.” Drake murmured.“A sire’s link is broken in two ways, King.The death of the sire is but one, and I have an old compact with the Talos house, forged with their ancestor.I _will_ protect them.As undeserving as they are now, I keep my word.”

 

“Let me guess, the second way is my permanent demise?”

 

“The second way,” Drake added, ignoring the breathless sarcasm, “Is for another vampire to bind you to him, or her, as a mate.” The primal rituals of blood and coupling were too old to even be termed _magic_.

 

“Funny how I’ve never met any vampire that I wanted to do more with than stake,” King said mournfully.“I mean, this even includes the Daywalker, and compared to the trash I live with usually, he’s quite a decent sort of guy.If you ignore the complete lack of a sense of humor and his short patience.”

 

“Even me?”

 

King’s stare was narrowed as he held Drake’s eyes, then he bared his teeth.“I’m pretty sure that if I look this gift horse in the mouth it’d bite my head off.You’re _Vlad Dracula_.I’m not even a pureblood, let alone from your elite vampire special treehouse club.”

 

Drake took the fact that King had avoided answering the question as a good sign.“Have you tried fighting a pureblood?”

 

“ _Honey_ ,” King drawled, “The only vampire I could never kill that I’ve gone up against – other than Danica, who is cheating, and Blade, who I freely admit kicked my ass something good a couple of times – is you.Happy?”

 

“Good.”

 

“If this is some sort of fucked up interview to be your exclusive concubine or catamite or whatever, I’m not really sure I want to be in the running.I mean, we’ve had a bit of fun and you are the vampire’s version of the cat’s pajamas, the High King, the Pope and the vampire Dalai Lama all rolled into one seriously hot package, even if I’m going to regret mentioning the words ‘Dalai Lama’ and ‘seriously hot’ in the same sentence, but I’m not really into the long-term commitment thing.Besides,” and here King’s scent, all rich desire, betrayed him where his tone did not, “I’m sure you’ve met a hell lot of vampires who were stronger than me.Hell, there’s _Blade_.Did I mention he kicked my ass? He’s not very cute, though.”

 

“The original House of Erebus – my Council – were a coven of the strongest vampires whose bloodlines had sworn fealty to me,” Drake said mildly.“None of them were suitable.”

 

“And you think _I_ am?”

 

“You interest me.I do not say that lightly.” Drake gave the sealing wound a final lick, then pushed away from the wall.

 

“By the way, I don’t know if you’ve been keeping up with the local news,” King said uncomfortably, “But the House of Erebus is kinda gone.”

 

“I plan to remake it.One of my old holdings in Transylvania is still intact.I will call a blood-meet there, in time.” Drake settled back into the divan, staring back over the skyline.Esperanto was such a dreary, architecturally vulgar city.He hoped that Transylvania had not much changed.“If I could also announce my claim on a chosen mate at the same time, that would be convenient.”

 

King’s fingers were curling and uncurling, and he rocked back, then forward, on his heels, looking away, up at the ceiling, then at the door.“I’m very flattered and all, but I think I’ll stick to Option A, thanks.The _point_ to this entire painful exercise was to free myself, not to change leashes, Lord Drake.”

 

“That is not what the ritual entails,” Drake curled a finger over the collar of his white shirt, tugging it briefly out to expose his own, unmarred neck.“ _You_ will also bite _me_.The claim works both ways.”

 

King’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his eyes glued to Drake’s throat, then he backpedaled towards the door, flustered.“I, ah, I think, I must have left the oven on, which I just recalled, so, I have to go, sir.”

 

“Do keep my offer in mind,” Drake said idly, carefully exerting just enough of his influence to ensure that King would do so.

 

He was a little gratified when instead of giving in, as instinct and the blood link had to be calling for, King merely fumbled with the doorknob, his fingers jerky, as though in panic.“I’ll think about it.Sir.”

 

A most curious vampire, Drake thought, as King fled the room, allowing himself a brief smirk.Captivating.

 

II

 

Hannibal was still high on adrenaline when Blade finally showed up, sliding onto the greasy bench in the beat-up diner and looking as out of place as a sore thumb in his black S&M leather get up.“Talk.”

 

“No, ‘Hello, King, it’s nice to see that you’re still around’, or some token weather commentary?”

 

“You said it was urgent.”

 

“Coffee?”

 

“Just talk, King.”

 

This was why Blade was totally crossed off his Potential Buddies list.Hannibal sipped at the bitter, godawful coffee and tried not to look as furtive as he felt.“Drake’s been following me around.He knows we’ve met.”

 

Blade arched an eyebrow.“Then, the Talos?”

 

“I don’t think they know.I’ve been careful.Just not careful enough for the bossman, I guess.He’s asked Danica to arrange a meeting with you.I’m not sure whether this is meant to be non-lethal.”

 

“I’m ready,” Blade said simply, waving away the waitress who trudged over to take his order.“When?”

 

“You’re going to end up killed.”

 

“Like that’s ever been a concern for you.”

 

“If you end up dead, who’s going to get rid of my sire?”

 

“You’re nervous,” Blade said quietly.“Something happened?”

 

“Bossman just told me that he has some sort of ancient pinky promise with the great-great-great-great-etcetera grandpa of Danica which obliges him to protect her ass.” Hannibal said sharply.Blade didn’t need to know the _real_ reason why he was on edge.

 

Fucking _Drake_.He had done that collar thing on _purpose_.It was winding in a constant loop in Hannibal’s mind, and even the bitter coffee couldn’t stop his mouth from watering.It had taken every shred of self-respect and willpower not to jump the High King’s bones when he had done that and/or fawn on him like a fanboy, and even now, there was a small voice in Hannibal’s head that was loudly exclaiming that he was a complete idiot.Most vampires, meaning all vampires except (possibly) Blade, would have killed for the chance to be Drake’s mate.

 

Drake’s _mate_.

 

Hannibal’s brain tried reflexively to come up with a joke regarding the innate silliness of the word ‘mate’, particularly with regards to the Australian vernacular, and failed under a new loop of a finger pulling back a starched collar.

 

“King?”

 

“Uhh, yeah.Sorry.A bit stressed.”

 

“I’m _saying_ ,” Blade said impatiently, “That either way, it looks like I have to fight Drake.If I beat him, I’ll kill Danica afterwards.All right? I gave you my word, King.”

 

“Either way you have to fight Drake?”

 

“He’s protecting Danica, isn’t he?”

 

“He can be distracted.” Easily.

 

Sometimes, Hannibal’s ego liked to pat itself on the back.

 

“Either way, he’s looking for me,” Blade said dismissively.“I don’t think it’d be for a cup of fucking coffee.”

 

“So I can’t convince you to try and make the hit on Danica first?” Hannibal was sure that he was whining, but what the hell.

 

“You’re that certain that I’ll lose to Drake.”

 

“I’m not really a betting man.Or vamp, as it were.And no offense, but I wouldn’t put money on you.I’ve fought you before, and okay, you’ve beaten me both of the times we fought _legit_ , but you’d agree that it wasn’t a walk in the fucking park, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Blade nodded slowly.

 

“And I’ve fought _Drake_ before.It was over very, very quickly.” After which Drake had proceeded to fuck him into the tiled balcony floor, but Blade didn’t need to know _that_ part.“And, before you say anything, I _was_ trying.”

 

“I won’t go unprepared.” Blade said dryly.“All right? And then after it’s all over and done with, I’ll make the hit on Danica.Then we’re even.”

 

“What do you mean, prepared?” Hannibal’s stomach did an ugly flip.

 

“You know why I can’t tell you, King.” Blade said flatly.“The only reason why we’re talking is because you need me to kill Danica, and I need you for information.I know that save where offing Danica is concerned, you probably would sell me out to Drake if it earned you an extra pat on the fucking head.”

 

“Yeah.” Hannibal choked down the coffee.“Okay, maybe I deserved that.”

 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you haven’t smelled like yourself for a while.” Blade rose from the table, somehow managing not to make a sound despite the hardware he was definitely packing.“Our bargain was for me to get Danica.I will.But don’t expect me to trust you.”

 

“Wow, way to break a guy’s heart.”

 

Blade snorted.“Be seeing you, King.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Blood Magic [2/2]  
 **Fandom:** Blade Trinity, AU  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Prompt:** mating rituals  
 **A/N:** Follows the porn_battle AU, where Hannibal King stayed a vampire.

III

 

Hannibal King was avoiding him.

 

And with _this_ many vampires around, trying to use the blood link to locate him was like attempting to separate a particular drop of water from a cup.Danica was as uncooperative as possible while still remaining in the boundaries of respect, and Drake would have hurt her, blood pact be damned, if not for the fact that it was clear that _she_ didn’t know where the Enforcer was, and she couldn’t exercise enough influence through her watered-down blood to call him to her side from a distance.

 

King didn’t keep rooms in the Talos complex, and it seemed that normally, he wasn’t welcome within it save on Talos business, due to his tendency to react violently to other vampires when bored.Jobs were usually emailed to him, Asher explained, after which he had to follow with a painstaking explanation of what email _was_ , and then sit Drake through an equally painstaking process of setting up an email account and sending King a message.

 

That had been one day ago, and King hadn’t shown up.Drake spent the time prowling, in his chambers, the Talos complex, or by himself out in Esperanto, so irritable that not even the Talos siblings had dared to interrupt.

 

He was fairly sure that he had made his interest clear, and just as certain that King was tempted.Perhaps he shouldn’t have revealed his long-avowed compact with the Talos clan.Or perhaps he shouldn’t have made it seem as though King had no choice.

 

Backed into a corner, it seemed entirely like King to start running.

 

He _knew_ he should have continued to keep tabs on King, rather than try to give the spooked vampire some space, but he had been busy in contact with the remnants of the descendants of the House of Erebus, and had been careless, and for that he cursed himself.King was as close to perfect as La Magra could will it in a mate: he was beautiful, strong, willful and constantly charged with that addictive inner energy that was so unusual to a vampire.If his overtures had cost him his chance, all because of impatience…

 

Drake was aware of the location of some of King’s boltholes in the city, mostly rented apartments, but King hadn’t been in any of them.As such, Drake hadn’t been in the best of moods when Blade had finally agreed to meet him in the center of the Grande Park, next to the fountain.

 

Danica and Asher were no doubt combing the area for a trap, but at present, Drake didn’t really care if there _was_ one.He was here to talk to Blade, but if there was an excuse to do battle, so much the better.

 

Drake hadn't been close enough the last time he'd followed King to get a good look at the Daywalker, and Blade turned out to be a solidly built, black male who smelled both like a vampire and like a human, dressed in black leather and cotton, visibly unarmed, eyes hidden by a pair of sunglasses.Like King, he did not smell of fear.“Dracula, I presume.”

 

“Call me Drake.” Drake said, looking Blade over thoughtfully.The self-assured walk and the disciplined grace told Drake that this could be a worthwhile match, should he so choose to turn to violence.“Daywalker.I’ve been told by the Talos clan that you pose a problem.”

 

“Could be.”

 

“I never did get involved in the business of clans,” Drake observed.“Particularly with regards to hunters.In my opinion then, as now, if a clan cannot deal with a hunter, then it does not deserve to be part of the House of Erebus.And in any case, while Talos was a good General, while he was alive, he did not have the requisite qualities to sit at my Council.”

 

“Your council’s dead.”

 

“And you dealt with the culprit.” Drake said calmly, “So I have been told.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“Shortly, I intend to meet the successors to the last Council, as well as the remaining non-Council clans, to decide on a new House.” Blade frowned slightly, but didn’t respond.“This will not occur in Esperanto.”

 

“Any vampire business anywhere is my concern.”

 

“The House of Erebus enforces my mandate in their jurisdictions, Daywalker.Co-existence.Secrecy.The old ways.”

 

“Dress it up however you like, vampires kill people.”

 

“And hunters like _you_ kill _us_.A necessary cycle.One that I am not averse to perpetrating.”

 

Blade tilted his head.“Even if I were to kill you now?”

 

“I doubt you can.But you are welcome to try, if you must.”

 

In answer, Blade put his hand behind him, as though reaching for the hilt of a sword, then he frowned as something buzzed in his jacket pocket.Grimacing, looking irritated and looking pained, Blade hesitated, then sighed and went for the phone when Drake shrugged, amused.

 

“Whistler? Do you realize… _King_? What do you want?”

 

Blade listened for a moment, then his expression darkened.“You better not have… fine.But all bets are fucking _off_ , King.Understand? _Even_ about my promise.”

 

“Give that to me,” Drake growled.Blade eyed him for a moment, then grudgingly handed the phone over.“King.Where are you?”

 

“Saving your ass?” King sounded cheerful.“I never knew you could make a sniper rifle shoot silver.This is some awesome military shit.” Behind King, someone was swearing loudly.“Sorry about the company.He got real pissed that I confiscated his gun.Some people are really not about sharing and caring.”

 

“You’ve lost your chance, King.” Drake said, surprised.Blade wouldn’t kill Danica for King now, not with this double-cross, and Blade had probably been the best chance King had to get rid of Danica.

 

“I know, I know.Spilt milk and all that.Listen, I’m going to set Blade’s friend loose, minus the rifle.Let Blade know I’m not going to be responsible for anything else after that, ‘kay? King out.”

 

Drake handed the phone back to Blade. “He’ll let your friend go.I suggest you leave.”

 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to fight.”

 

“You’ve lost your backup, and I’m no longer in the mood.” Drake said flatly.“Walk away.”

 

Blade stared at him for a moment longer, then he exhaled harshly and jammed the phone back into his pocket.The Daywalker was a predator, but a calculating one, strong enough in its own right to understand when it would need aid against the superior strength of another.

 

IV

 

Hannibal checked the locks on his apartment door, then the (paranoid) indicators he had left on the ground and against the hinge for any sign of unauthorized entry.Satisfied that the slips of paper, discreet powder patterns and wire were in their proper places, he stepped in and bolted back all three locks, then the chain, then yelped as big hands curved over his hips.

 

Drake’s expression was unreadable in the darkness of the apartment, the only illumination the half-decent view of Esperanto’s night lights.Hannibal opened his mouth, to say something, _anything_ , only to be slammed up against the door and kissed so roughly that Drake’s fang sliced over his lip, growling as Hannibal muffled a whine at the taste of his own blood.

 

Damn.And he had been _so_ sure that Drake would get bored if he just lay low for a while.“Lord Drake,” Hannibal yelped, when Drake let up to nip just under his goatee, following the nip with a lazy lick.“How the hell did you find me?”

 

“Asher had someone trace your computer.” Figured.Cursing himself silently for being such an _amateur_ , Hannibal bit out another pained yelp when Drake bit him, harder.“Were you _ever_ going to show yourself to me again?”

 

“Maybe when… _Christ_ … things settle down, and you find someone else to play your fucking mind games with-”

 

“ _What_ games?”

 

“The one where you pick someone as a glorified plaything and dress it up with all this mystical mumbo!”

 

“You’re concerned it won’t last.” Drake said, as though in slow realization, as Hannibal shuddered in his hands.“But _you_ said you didn’t want commitment.”

 

“Drake,” Hannibal said shakily, all of his best attempts to evade or dissemble stolen away by the intoxicating scent of Drake’s arousal and musk, “Fuck, when you’re this close, I never know what I want.” He was still lying through his teeth, if badly, and from the smirk pressed up against his neck, Drake knew it.

 

Drake hummed against his neck.“I grow weary of explanations.”

 

“Wait, what are you… God,” Hannibal whispered, as Drake slit a shallow line over his neck, the scent of the High King’s blood so rich that he was growing lightheaded.“I…” Drake pressed him to it, inexorably, and Hannibal moaned as he _bit_ , unable to resist, drinking hungrily, curling his fingers into claws over Drake’s back.He was dimly aware of teeth sinking into his flesh, of Drake’s growl as he propped them both against the wall, of big hands cupping his arse and forcing him to grind against Drake’s muscular thigh.

 

When he gathered enough brainpower to jerk back with a low whimper, Drake promptly kissed him, the mingling taste of their blood in his mouth making his hips twist up against Drake’s as he moaned.Drake had his hands up under his shirt, his touch electric as rough pads rubbed up his flanks to his nipples, pinching and pulling at them until Hannibal was panting for air he didn’t need and clawing at Drake’s clothes.Desire was drugging him with its overwhelming mandate, and he could barely recognize the broken sounds he was making.

 

“Please, please, _please_ …” Hannibal was scrabbling at Drake’s shoulders and babbling as Drake tore his shirt open and nipped down to his belly, and he could logically see what was going to happen next even as his brain balked at the very image.“Ohh… Jesus _Christ_.”

 

Drake smirked up at him, on his knees with his fingers deftly undoing the button on Hannibal’s jeans.On his _knees_.Hannibal’s brain tried again to reconcile reality with the impossible and whimpered away to die in a corner.“Fuck.”

 

“You want it?” Drake’s palm rubbing up roughly over his boxers, his lips just a couple inches away, the twin spots of red on Drake’s _neck_ – Hannibal had never seen anything this _hot_.He nodded sharply, swallowing hard, then revised his estimate a couple of minutes later, when Drake drew his cock between bloodstained lips and swallowed _down_ , inch by inch, taking him into his tight throat, one hand curled tight around the base and the other clamped on his left hip.

 

Hell.He’d had night after night of wet dreams since the ‘offer’ and Hannibal knew he wasn’t going to last.He also wasn’t sure what were the consequences of coming in Dracula’s _mouth_.

 

“Drake,” Hannibal panted, breathy and choking.“Drake, _Drake_ , I’m close, I’m-” the rest of his words died in a howl as Drake _purred_ and squeezed, his tongue curling _up_ and Hannibal’s self-control gave out along with his knees, digging his fingers over broad shoulders as intense ecstasy swept him boneless.

 

Drained and sated, Hannibal didn’t protest as Drake picked him up like he weighed nothing and headed towards the bedroom, dumping him on the single bed, and impatient fingers made short work of their clothes.“Second drawer,” Hannibal said hoarsely, when Drake stared at him expectantly, and then “Fuck,” as Drake lost no time slicking up a finger after locating the discreet tube and pushing it into him.They didn’t usually go for such niceties, but Hannibal supposed that getting fucking vampire-shotgun-married probably qualified for niceties.

 

Drake glared at him when he began to laugh.“What?”

 

“How does this work if we get divorced?” Hannibal couldn’t help it.His brain had reconciled to reality and was trying to make up for lost time.“Do I get half of Transylvania? Because, you know, I really like Sibiu and Corvin castle.I was there before for a… a hit and took the… oh _God_ … the long way back-”

 

Drake shot him the frowning-puzzled expression that the vampire assumed whenever he was trying to work out Hannibal’s slang, jokes or popular culture references, and then settled for pushing in another finger and watching him buck for it.Bastard.

 

“So fucking each other’s brains out would seal the deal?”

 

Drake nipped him sharply over the bite wound even as he lined up between Hannibal’s legs, pushing his knees so wide that the joints ached.“The ‘deal’ was sealed once we exchanged blood, King.”

 

“So this is the bonus stage?” Hannibal ‘felt’ carefully about in the attic of his mind and came up short.The annoying mental anchor that he’d always associated with Danica was gone, leaving _nothing_ in its place.Surprised, Hannibal scooted back sharply, earning himself an annoyed growl from Drake.“Wait, wait, I thought you said this would replace Danica’s link? There’s nothing.”

 

“La Magra predates vampires, Hannibal.It’s something else altogether,” Drake grit out, and fuck but seeing the High King wound up so tense for him, his eyes glittering black with lust, was making his spent cock pulse.“Do you want to fuck, or keep running your goddamn mouth?”

 

“You know,” Hannibal said, with mock sulkiness, as Drake dragged him back down into position, “Disney says that male royalty are all gentlemen, give or take a couple of magic roses _Christ_ christchrist _Christ-_ ”

 

Drake shifted, now seated balls deep in one gloriously violent thrust that had his blood singing, pain and ecstasy, as he arched into a tight bow under rough fingers.“You talk too much.”

 

“Should have thought that out before… shit… you decided on the ever fucking after… oh _God_ you’re such an asshole… sir…” Hannibal grit his teeth as Drake drew back partially and rocked back in, not bothering to wait for him to adjust.A hand closed on his cock and began working it with hard jerks back to arousal, making him whine and press up into the pressure.

 

He braced his elbows on the bed and rolled his hips into the next thrust, making Drake snarl and curl fingers into vice-like grips on his hips, lifting him to meet the next.The bed slammed hard into the plaster wall, and Hannibal screamed.

 

Judging from the warm orange glow behind his heavy drapes, it was sunrise by the time Drake finally finished, emptying into him with a snarl muffled by his teeth sunk into the other side of Hannibal’s neck, and he was too tired and fucked out to do anything but twitch and gasp.Drake drank until Hannibal weakly pushed at his shoulders, then he growled and pulled back, ignoring Hannibal’s wince, settling on his flank and pulling Hannibal up into his arms, nuzzling the healing bite.His attempt to call Drake an asshole ended up in a croak, and Drake chuckled.

 

“So,” Drake said conversationally, after Hannibal cleared his throat a few times and coughed, “What _did_ you think it would be like?”

 

“It’s entirely possible I’ve read far too much tween vampire fiction,” Hannibal said thoughtfully, if in a weakened whisper.“I thought there would be some sort of mental bond or some shit.  Like Danica's sire link, except with sex perks.  Not that I want sex perks with Danica.”

 

Drake snorted, eyelashes fluttering shut against his neck, and Hannibal muttered, “You could have _told_ me.”

 

“If you read and believe rubbish that is your business.The mating bond is made as between equals.”

 

“Equals? Seriously?”

 

“Figuratively,” Drake allowed, sounding amused.“Though, perhaps given a decade of training you may even last half an hour against me during sparring.”

 

“Okay,” Hannibal croaked, “I guess I concede that.”

 

“Good.Shut up.I want to sleep.”

 

“If you wake up in another hundred years, I’m _so_ not gonna be here.”

 

V

 

“ _You_ get to wear cool armor, and _I_ get something that looks like I just walked off the set of the Full Monty,” King growled, when Drake padded into his throne room in the castle.

 

It wasn’t his beloved Bran Castle – retaking that would be far too much trouble and be against his tenets – but the well-hidden Drake’s Landing was still in fine shape even after his sleep.The vampire retainers that he had installed in it prior to his rest had kept it in good order, and the chief attendant trailed behind him, fussing over rivets and the folds of his maroon cloak.

 

King looked good, in an open white shirt worn loose over dress pants, wide belts with the holstered pistols hugging his narrow hips, the stiff fabric tucked into high black boots.More importantly, the shirt and the simple black thong under it emphasized the bite scars on his neck. _Drake’s_ marks.

 

The chief attendant cleared his throat politely.“If sir prefers it, we have other, perhaps more comfortable outfits.”

 

“He looks fine, Andrei. _Mulţumesc_.”

 

“I do _not_ look fine-” King stiffened as Drake kissed him roughly.He had quickly learned the best way to shut up his mate, at least in public.King coughed, when Drake pulled back, looking away quickly, as Andrei discreetly took his leave. “Okay.I guess you can make it up to me later.”

 

“Indeed.” Drake settled down on his throne, scale-plated armor shifting under greaves and bracers crested by his house seal.

 

“So what happens now, _Lord_ Drake?” King asked snidely, watching as the servants melted away and Drake signaled to the captain of his guard to call in the guests.“Do I sit at your feet or something? On your lap? On the armrest?”

 

“You stand by my right hand,” Drake reached over and curled fingers briefly and tightly around King’s.“As you will always.”

 

-fin-


	3. A Shade of Infinite [1/4]

**Title:** A Shade of Infinite [1/4]  
 **Fandom:** Blade Trinity, Blood Magic AU  
 **Rating:** PG13  
 **Pairing:** Drake/Hannibal  
 **Beta:** [](http://retardedcookie.livejournal.com/profile)[**retardedcookie**](http://retardedcookie.livejournal.com/)  - thank you so much! :3 Added some additional stuff after the beta = all remaining mistakes are mine.  
 **Art by:** [](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/profile)[**chosenfire28**](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/) [here](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/169744.html)   
 **A/N:** For [](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[**vampirebigbang**](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/)  - Continues from Blood Magic, where Hannibal is also a vampire.  Married life isn't all that it's cracked up to be. 

  
  


A Shade of Infinite

 

I

 

"I'm not too concerned about your being here, Whistler... Abigail," Blade corrected himself at a quick scowl from the grizzled old hobo with a shotgun in the corner of the room."Your father's the closest thing I have to family, but the way I see it you're old enough to do what you want.What I want to know is why _he's_ here!"

 

"I've killed more vampires than Abby and her daddy combined, I bet," Hannibal protested.

 

" _You’re_ a vampire!"

 

"Now that's just discrimination."

 

"King." Abby rubbed a palm over her face."We agreed."

 

"I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings but it doesn't look like the Plan is-"

 

“ _King_.”

 

"Okay boss, okay." Hannibal raised his palms in a gesture of mock surrender, flopping over the crate he was seated on.They were in Blade's Secret Warehouse Hideout, As Yet Unnamed; it smelled strongly of turpentine and gunpowder and seemed to consist mostly of boxes, creatively connected computers and a padded training room.Somehow, Abby had managed to track down her elusive father a week ago and arrange a meeting.It seemed that she hadn't elaborated on her choice of companions.

 

"He's not just any vampire, Abby," Whistler said wearily, gesturing with his shotgun."He's Drake's _mate_."

 

"You know, Australian speech anachronisms-"

 

" _You_ shut up," Blade snarled."Abigail, how long have you been... working with... King?"

 

"You don't need to make that sound so wrong-"

 

"Three months," Abby interrupted."And before you ask, he saved my butt by killing a group of vamps that had me cornered in their little frathouse."

 

"You're making a big mistake, girl." Blade glared at Hannibal."And don't think I've forgotten what you did the last time, King."

 

"I _could_ have just killed Shotgun Hobo here and left Drake to wipe your ass on the pavement, Blade," Hannibal pointed out."The way I did it, nobody got hurt."

 

"Or you could have let me shoot Dracula, and then we would have killed Danica for you," Shotgun Hobo could be such a sore loser.

 

"You're only sore because I confiscated your rifle. Which I've offered to return, by the way."

 

"All right, fine.Convince me," Blade threw his gloved hands up in the air."You're the second most powerful vampire in the world, at least in their politics.You've betrayed us once, whatever the circumstances: you say you have no love for vampires but you sure as hell stopped us from killing Drake.Why, the hell, shouldn't I stake you now?"

 

"Drake is rebuilding his House of Erebus," Abby said quickly, before Hannibal's quip about being able to make excellent coffee cleared his throat, "There's a… competition thing between the clans to get in."

 

"So the vamps kill one another. Let them." Blade said dismissively.

 

"Just being the strongest fanged Neanderthal doesn't make you part of the House," Hannibal folded his arms behind his head comfortably. "You have to impress Drake.And some of the clans are going to go about it the old fashioned way. Summoning old gods, sacrifices, novelty gifts, plans for subtle world domination, and of course, the holy grail of vampires, the ability to get a suntan-"

 

"So how do you factor into this?" The vampire hunter so feared by the clans could be so distressingly single-minded.

 

"I still haven't taken human blood out of a packet since the first time I was turned.Other than Drake I still haven't met a vampire who didn't deserve a good staking.I'm free of my sire now," Hannibal raised his voice sharply as Blade began to object, "Far as I can tell, I'm free to do what I've always wanted."

 

" 'Other than Drake'," Whistler mimicked. "So what about Drake?"

 

"Honestly? I don't know. He's been busy. Look," Hannibal continued sharply, as Whistler sneered, "He isn't my sire. He can't make me do things the way Danica could. He freed me, sure, but-"

 

"But the moment he finishes his business and crooks his finger you're going to go back with your tail wagging," Whistler finished bluntly.

 

"I could have killed you that day, old man." Hannibal smiled, just wide enough to bare his fangs.

 

"You're a _god-damned vampire_ and I'll be-"

 

"Okay! Okay." Abby snapped. "I trust King, all right? I came here today because I thought maybe we could pool our efforts, or at least share some information without brawling like fucking _kids_. I was wrong. King, let's go. Dad, it was great to see you."

 

"I'm not going to let you just walk away with a vampire." Whistler growled. "Why do you trust him?"

 

"I _told_ you. He saved my ass. A few times since, even. And you haven't seen what his face looks like when he kills one of his own kind." Abby said bluntly, her jaw set in a familiar expression of belligerence. Hannibal could almost pity her hobo father."I believe him when he says he wants to stop the clans. _And,_ " she added, a little coldly, and clearly not above the low blows, “So far, he’s been there when I needed him.”

 

Whistler winced visibly, and even Blade looked pained, but the Daywalker forged on.

 

"And Drake?"

 

"I don't think any of us is really equipped to handle Drake," Abby said grudgingly, "So I was going to leave that problem aside until it becomes a big one."

 

"It's already a big one, girl." Blade sighed, sitting down heavily on a squeaking chair beside a flickering computer monitor. "Okay. Assuming I was willing to risk King betraying us at some point _again_ , what were your plans?"

 

"Come up with a cool group name. I was thinking 'Nightstalkers'-"

 

"The Upier clan intends to raise a demon in Vietnam from the trapped souls of the wandering dead from the war-"

 

"Or maybe just 'Slayers', short and sweet-"

 

"The Ngatto clan in Somalia is coming up with a serum for daywalking to be possible, though I think it isn't really further than the fledging stages yet-"

 

"What about 'Blade and Friends'?"

 

"The Dragonetti clan has an underground ring of child trafficking that they intend to present as a constant supply... every clan is going to try and do something." Abby was clearly ignoring him."But the one we're most concerned about is Von Esper.They're trying to purify the bloodline."

 

Blade frowned, clearly puzzled, but Whistler was obviously the brains behind the operation. “You’re talking about the blood link with Drake? They’ve been trying that for _centuries_ , blood magic, Arcanum, science, the works.It’s an attrition problem.Each time a vampire makes another vampire, the new vampire gets half of his starting ‘switch’ from his sire. The only way a purer vampire can be made is if Drake makes him himself.”

 

“It’s not the blood link,” Hannibal said quickly, before Abby tried to explain. “It’s that weird, fucked up face Drake makes whenever he’s being serious. It’s sort of like a cross between a vampire bat and a third degree burn victim and a mutant cobra. No vampire alive – or dead, depending on your opinion – can do that now except Drake.”

 

“Being ‘serious’?” Blade repeated slowly.

 

“When he’s in human form? That’s Drake playing around. When he’s in serious mode, he’s stronger, faster, impervious to silver, doesn’t seem to register pain. I bitched him into sparring with me like that once.” Hannibal made a face. “Not a fun experience.” Drake had been holding back too, careful not to hurt him. The fight had been over embarrassingly quickly, even where Hannibal’s flexible idea of pride was concerned. “Imagine more vampires like that. Von Esper’s close. They brought a tank of mice to Court to show them off to Drake some months back. Creepiest shit _ever_.”

 

“That’s why you left?” Blade asked, evidently still hung up on his original concern.The Daywalker’s bulldog tendencies were what made him such a successful hunter; but Hannibal knew from experience that it could also be extremely tiresome.

 

As to the reason _why_ he had left-

 

“I like vampires as they are now. Pretty much killable, with some effort, even by you guys. Barring Blade from the ‘you guys’, of course. Sorry, Abby.”

 

Thankfully, Blade seemed to accept his reason, if with a final suspicious glare and a deep sigh. “Whistler?”

 

“I can see your mind’s set.” The old hobo rubbed at his face.“I don’t like this one bit. But we can’t take on a clan as established as Von Esper without help. And I did hear that they were doing something big.”

 

“So I pass?” Hannibal asked, with an expression of arch alertness.

 

Blade grunted. “If you pull that shit you did with the sniper on us again, I’ll put a stake through your heart myself.”

 

“All _right!_ I love being friends.”

 

“I don’t have resources in Esperanto,” Abby said, as Blade glowered at Hannibal.“Von Esper’s relocated their lab here after some clans tried to steal the technology from their original location in Berlin. They’ve got an old alliance with the Talos clan, which has more resources than Von Esper does.”

 

“I’ll do the rounds.” Whistler rose heavily from his chair, hands on his knees. “But this had better not be a dud, King. I know you’ve got beef with the Talos clan. You’d better not be using us to get your revenge.”

 

“Killing Asher and Danica would be icing on the cake. Nice, but optional.” Hannibal raised his palms. “And if you don’t believe me, I’m happy to do a hit on any of the other clans. Abby chose this one.”

 

“I’m going to have a long talk with my daughter,” Whistler said, with a brief glance between Abby’s unflinching stare and Blade’s unmoving bulk. “Blade, why don’t you take King around on the rounds. See what you can find out.”

 

It wasn’t a request, and Blade scowled, clearly unhappy with the prospect of being saddled with Yours Truly for some sort of potential masculine bonding session in the dark romantic dregs of dissolute Esperanto vampire haunts. “Fine. Don’t blame me if he comes back in a fucking jar.”

 

II

 

Drake was in a foul mood. It had been three months and fifteen days since he had first realized that King had abruptly disappeared from the castle with no explanation to anyone. Lethally terminating the services of the two vampires whom he had set to discreetly watch King out of a fit of pique had not helped, and if not for the bond, Drake would have ignored his Court and the necessity of the long and careful selection process for his House of Erebus and set about locating King immediately.

 

As it were, however, the bond had only been sufficient to inform Drake that King was still alive and well. Still, as the days dragged past, Drake was growing increasingly impatient with the agents he had sent to locate his wayward mate. And he still had no idea why King had left in the first place. His mate was fiercely independent and willful, both qualities that were part of why Drake had chosen him in the first place, but King could be very trying to live with at times. King didn't like life in the castle, and for all Drake knew - judging from the complaints - it could be anything from the lack of Internet access to the use of only the vampiric tongue or the Romanian language in Court.

 

However, King was now arguably the most well known vampire in the (vampire) world beside himself, and it had been frustrating how none of the clans had even seen him.

 

"Sir." Andrei diffidently cut into his thoughts. He looked up from the rosewood desk of his office and from the reports he had been attempting to peruse for the last two hours to see the old retainer holding a silver tray, upon which was a cordless black phone on a red cushion. Andrei had been with him since he had first begun his campaigns in Transylvania, and the vampire could be excessively old fashioned.

 

 _Like his master_ , Drake thought wryly. "Andrei. _Ce este_?"

 

"A call for you, from Marius, your Majesty." Drake preferred the musical lilt of the Romanian tongue, but Andrei – as with most vampires in his employ – tended to speak in the guttural vampiric language.

 

"Thank you, Andrei." Drake straightened as he took the phone from Andrei. Marius had been one of the agents he had sent after King, one of the Wallachian Guard, whom he had scattered around his Holdings to protect them before he had left for Syria to rest. "Drake."

 

"Majesty." Marius’ voice was habitually cold, in a flat, whispery monotone, and like the rest of the Wallachian Guard, he spoke in the first vampiric tongue, formal and ritualistic, whenever addressing the High King. His throat had been damaged in battle due to a nasty gash from a wayward saber before he had been turned, and the injury had stayed permanent. “I have located thy mate in Esperanto.”

 

Drake closed his eyes briefly and muttered a curse. He should have guessed. “Good work, Marius.”

 

“Dost thou command his retrieval, ser?”

 

“He would kill you, Marius.” Drake drummed his fingers briefly on the desk. He still had a seemingly endless stretch of Court attendances as he sorted out propositions from all of the Clans; he was in the slow process of reclaiming the few Holdings he had in Eastern Europe that were still convenient to re-acquire; there were all of the usual disputes from his childer that required his final jurisdiction… Drake sighed, harsh and frustrated. “Follow him discreetly. Stand by for future orders.”

 

“It will be as thou commands, Majesty.” There was a discreet pause, then Marius cleared his throat awkwardly, nearly inaudibly.

 

“Speak your mind, Marius.” It was nice to know that even after centuries, an old vampire’s habits never changed.

 

“Thy mate, he was in the company of the Daywalker, ser.”

 

Drake carefully unclenched his fingers from the armrest when it abruptly splintered in his grasp. “My orders stand. Follow King discreetly. Find out where he is hiding.But under no circumstances – save where King may be in danger – should you show yourself to either him or his acquaintances. I am coming to Esperanto.”

 

“Your servant understands.”

 

Drake switched off the phone and tossed it back onto the waiting tray, rising to his feet and stalking for the door. Andrei shuffled quickly into step behind him. “I will arrange for the jet to be ready. The Wallachian Guard-”

 

“The Guard stays here.” Drake pulled off his filigreed gauntlets one by one, dumping them on Andrei’s plate. He would have to dress discreetly. “Make my apologies to my Court. Suitable apologies.”

 

“Understood, sir. The Talos Clan in Esperanto, need they be notified?”

 

“No. They will find out eventually, if they are not entirely incompetent.” Shoulder guards followed gauntlets, then plated armguards.

 

“I hear that Von Esper too is in Esperanto. Working on their Bloodline Project.”

 

“They can work on whatever they like as long as they do not get in my way.” Drake said dismissively. “Once I have King, I am returning here.”

 

“Very good, sir.” Andrei said with a butler’s unruffled calm. “Would sir require me to pack a set of restraints?”

 

And a butler’s subtle sense of irony. “If you have something to say, say it, Andrei.”

 

“Your mate fled these Holdings for a reason, sir,” Andrei said mildly, “Should you force him to return he will simply wait for another chance and flee again.”

 

“I am well aware of that.” Drake said curtly, still mulling over Marius’ words. King had been seen in the company of the _Daywalker_. The only vampire that King had ever tolerated – even seemed to _like_ , if perhaps grudgingly so – other than Drake himself. Perhaps he had made a mistake by allowing Blade to live. If anything more than friendship had developed, there would be blood.

 

“Very good, sir.”

 

III

 

King looked oddly young without the goatee and with his hair grown out until it feathered over his forehead, but even coupled with sunglasses and a shapeless gray wool hoodie, so far from his usual form-fitting vests or shirts, it _was_ surprising that King had managed to stay hidden for this long.

 

 _That_ much was obvious to Blade, which had made him grudgingly curious enough to (temporarily) forgive King the backstab with the sniper rifle.King was on the run, probably from Drake; he exuded a constant, faint scent of wire-thin anxiety that was not so much nervousness but on the knife’s edge of violence. It would have been distracting, if not for how King’s constant babble was so annoying.

 

“So what did you do?” Blade asked, as they wandered out of a now silent Talos-owned pub. Blade _had_ intended not to advertise their presence, seeing as they were here for information and there hadn’t been any evidence tonight of any vampire-caused murders, but some Talos familiar had recognized King, and then it had gone downhill from there.

 

King had a chipper spring in his step, as though the violence had rejuvenated him.“Did what? You mean that trick with the whiskey bottle? I learned that from-”

 

“You ran away from Drake, King. What _did_ you do?”

 

“Well, you know what they say about marriage, after the honeymoon period it just becomes a state of utter boredom.” King’s scent spiked, a clear sign that he was lying through his fanged teeth.

 

“I doubt that.”

 

“Did you know that Drake’s Landing has no internet, no television, no radio, no interior heating, only basic electricity, and no phone reception in half of the goddamn building?”

 

“And that’s why you left.”

 

“Maybe.” King’s fingers were twitching near his hips, instinctively close to his pistols.“Does it matter?”

 

“I want to know if there’s any danger that Drake will come after you. Seriously.” Blade snapped, when King grinned.

 

The vampire swallowed his quip and sighed. “He’s an old man and old people are possessive. Sure. He’s busy right now, though, what with Court and all those freeloaders descending on the castle.”

 

Blade mulled this over, unsure of whether to take the words at face value. Clearly _King_ seemed to believe it, but that could be simply King being naïve. After all these centuries the High King had finally chosen a mate; Blade rather doubted that Drake would let King run about by himself so freely.

 

Or perhaps he was just incorrectly correlating human behavior with vampire behavior. “All right. So what’s the explanation for the dress up?”

 

“All this was on sale?” King tended to hide behind his razor wit when backed up against a wall, Blade noted. “Also, do you know how awkward it is to be called Your Highness? It makes me want to shoot holes into shit.”

 

“Most things do.” Blade rumbled, and King let out a startled laugh until he realized the Daywalker hadn’t been cracking a joke.

 

“Sourpuss.”

 

“It’s been about three nights since I’ve had to babysit you on all these fucking trips,” Blade scowled. “I’m beginning to doubt that your information is accurate.”

 

“Now that’s just hurtful. I _did_ suggest walking into Talos tower.”

 

“I’m not here for one of your personal feuds.”

 

“What happened to ‘Me Badass Daywalker, Kill All Vampires’?”

 

“I’m not stupid, King. It’s going to take more than you, me, an old man and a girl to take out one of the old clans.”

 

“Then what _do_ you intend to do?” King gestured broadly at a dark alley in passing.“Keep killing small fish in pubs forever? I don’t mean to criticize, but you know, _maybe_ -”

 

“Then _what_ ,” Blade snapped, “Do _you_ suggest?”

 

“The reason why vampires no longer fear hunters is that there’s no organization to you lot,” King said, as they rounded out of the narrow street into a main thoroughfare. Even at this hour of the night, cars streaked past, in a comforting rumble of ongoing traffic, and civilians hurried by with their hands sunk into thick coats. “Just tiny groups of maybe two to three people picking off the small fry, waiting to be squished if they ever got too annoying. Sure, the Talos clan think you’re a threat, because Danica’s a nervous little bitch even at the best of times, but the rest of the clans don’t give a damn about you.”

 

“So you want me to start collecting other hunters?” Blade fixed his glare on the long shadows drawn by the street lamps. “I don’t work well with others.”

 

“Hunters could pool resources. Maybe there’re some scientists out there who could find a better blanket solution, or some people who can do better than make sniper rifles that can shoot blessed silver. They’ll come to you if you call them. At least among hunters, I think _you’re_ pretty much the Beatles and Elvis and Madonna all rolled into one.”

 

“Sure. Gather all these people under one roof so that we can all be taken out by a strike team.”

 

“I know you don’t trust me,” King said, finally showing an edge of irritation, “And I can respect that. It was just a thought, okay?”

 

“Fine.” Blade eyed him thoughtfully. “What about _you_? You could walk into any clan’s building as an honored guest. Kill the leaders and maybe even walk out. That last pub we hit, some of the vampires just lay down for you to shoot.”

 

King made a face. “That’s… complicated.”

 

“Hunters killing vampires, that’s normal,” Blade guessed, as they reached their bikes. “Vampires killing vampires, that’s civil war. And you don’t want that, do you? For all your talk, you’re still Drake’s pet. You don’t want to make trouble for him.”

 

“That’s _not_ -” King froze in mid-snarl, suddenly looking around and sniffing. Blade’s hand went for the hilt of his katana.

 

“What?”

 

“You go back first. I’ll catch up.”

 

“Bullshit, what did you sense?” Blade paused, his eyes narrowing. “Drake?”

 

“One of the Wallachian Guard.” King narrowed his eyes, scanning the rooftops of the buildings. “He’s gone.”

 

“The Wallachian Guard – Drake’s personal guard,” Blade didn’t relax his grip. “So he knows you are here.”

 

“Wouldn’t be surprised.” The anxiety spiked again, this time tainted with nervousness. “You’d better go back. Move Abby and Whistler someplace. Don’t tell me where. I’m going to take care of that Guard, and then if it’s safe, I’ll call you.Abby already knows everything I know about the Von Esper project anyway.”

 

“And if Drake’s here?”

 

“I don’t know.” King’s brief glance his way was wild-eyed. “I’ll think of something.Take care of Abby. Please. Even if she chews out her dad. She’s a nice girl.”

 

“I don’t need you to tell me that.” Blade dropped his hand to his side, then some trace sense of sympathy made him add, “Call when you find out something.”

 

“Sure.” King was already sprinting away, back down another alley, jumping up to a fire escape from a dumpster with the unnatural, lithe energy of a vampire. Blade watched him go, silently, then shook his head and headed for his bike. He knew Abigail Whistler wasn’t going to be pleased.

 

IV

 

Drake hadn’t been entirely pleased to be greeted by a simpering Danica, a nervous Asher and a silent Annaline von Esper upon emerging from the private jet. He certainly hadn’t expected them – particularly Annaline – to be incompetent enough not to find out that he was coming, but having to deal with formalities was a waste of his time. At any moment, _King_ could realize that Drake had arrived in Esperanto and possibly give even Marius the slip.

 

Slouched in the leather seat of the limousine on their way to the Talos tower, Drake nearly growled when Danica asked sweetly, beside him, “May I ask why you honor us with your presence, your Majesty?”

 

Drake glared at her, then frowned at Annaline, seated opposite Danica. Unlike the Talos siblings, who gave out the faint scent of awed fear that Drake was used to from his descendants, Annaline’s returning stare was flat and even, as though from an equal. She did, however, avert her eyes quickly and politely to her lap.

 

Drake sifted vaguely through his recollection of his return to Transylvania and the first session in Court. He _did_ remember meeting Annaline – who had been as much a wilting flower under pressure as Danica was, all nails and no substance, even when presenting her tank of little monsters. Something felt a little… wrong.

 

Irritably, he pushed that aside. He wasn’t here to interfere with clan business, and he _had_ arrived rudely unannounced. Granted, it wasn’t Von Esper territory, and perhaps Annaline had expected Drake to maintain the balance of territory and power between the clans instead of allowing her clan’s traditional grounds to be swallowed by Dragonetti.

 

If the clans expected him to act as peacemaker, they were about to be sorely mistaken. “Personal business.”

 

“About King, sir?” Danica’s tone somehow managed to turn syrupy.

 

“ _Personal_ business,” Drake bared his teeth, and Danica flattened against her seat, looking away quickly as Asher made a worried murmur. Annaline, however, continued to stare out into moving traffic, as though absolutely oblivious.

 

“Hannibal King has been sniffing around Von Esper business,” Annaline said, her voice low and toneless. “It is becoming inconvenient.”

 

“Annaline,” Danica chirped, her eyes widening as her long nails scratched anxious lines along the plush leather.

 

“Curiosity is one of his more… endearing traits,” Drake growled, with enough of an edge of challenge that Asher let out a low whine and Danica flattened back further.Annaline, however, shot him a slow blink before averting her eyes again.

 

“Of course, your Majesty.”

 

“Perhaps once my business is settled you could show me about the laboratory,” Drake said, a little irked as the predator within him chafed at the lack of clear submission. “I have heard good reports.”

 

“It would be my honor, your Majesty.” Annaline said, meekly enough, when Danica glared stonily at her.

 

Curious. The Annaline he recalled had just enough spiteful pride to have lorded her blood-sire’s then-hereditary inclusion in the House of Erebus over the non-House clans, but now she seemed to be deferring to Talos. Scratching absently at his jaw, Drake studied first the Talos siblings, and then Annaline’s incurious stillness, his instincts unsettled. After finding King, he would have to get Marius to look into Von Esper’s business. Perhaps the ouster by Dragonetti had been more traumatic than he had envisaged.

 

“How goes progress on the joint project?” Drake asked Danica finally, as the limousine pulled into streets that he remembered were in the inner circle territory of the Talos clan.


	4. A Shade of Infinite [2/4]

**Title:** A Shade of Infinite [2/4]  
 **Fandom:** Blade Trinity, Blood Magic AU  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Pairing:** Drake/Hannibal  
 **Beta:** [](http://retardedcookie.livejournal.com/profile)[**retardedcookie**](http://retardedcookie.livejournal.com/)  - thank you so much! :3 Added some additional stuff after the beta = all remaining mistakes are mine.  
 **Art by:** [](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/profile)[**chosenfire28**](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/)    
 **A/N:** For [](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[**vampirebigbang**](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/) - Continues from Blood Magic, where Hannibal is also a vampire.  Married life isn't all that it's cracked up to be.  


 

“We’ve had a positive reaction from dogs and we’ll be moving on to monkeys shortly.I think a few more tweaks are needed before it’d work on vampires, sir.” Asher said nervously, after an uncomfortable silence where Danica stared at her nails and Annaline glanced vacuously out of the window.

 

“Did you try it on vampires first?”

 

“Yes, your Majesty. It was not… very encouraging at the time.”

 

“The result should be remarkable.” Drake said, losing interest. He had been vaguely interested in the Von Esper attempt to recreate the blood demon symbiote that La Magra had inflicted upon him during the desperate ritual while imprisoned in Buda, but Drake was fairly certain that however interesting a pack of monster rats might be, he doubted that science could recreate a blood God’s curse. 

 

“Of course, your Majesty-” Asher said quickly, hesitating when Drake’s phone rang shrilly. Wincing, Drake fished the slim, annoying device out of his pockets, taking a moment to recall Andrei’s instructions, and found the green button to pick up the line.

 

“Drake.”

 

“Ser. My utmost apologies-”

 

“What happened, Marius?”

 

The Wallachian Guard were a handful of the oldest vampires still in existence, powerful and pureblooded, bred only for combat in the name of the High King, but he could all but sense Marius cringing. “Thy mate has sensed me. He flees.”

 

“Do you have him in your sights?”

 

“Aye, still. Barely… no, I can no longer see him. But I can sense him about.” There was a soft sound of padding footsteps on concrete, as Marius seemed to be looking about him, then a sudden, harsh yelp of pain, a loud thud, and a _crack_ that made Drake jerk back with a wince, his sharp hearing stinging as the phone was dropped on concrete. Marius swore, loud and reedy, then was abruptly silent. There was a rasp as the phone was picked up.

 

“Marius?”

 

“Sorry,” King said cheerfully, over the phone. “And before you yell at me, I didn’t kill him. Yet,” King added, as an afterthought.

 

“Stop the car,” Drake snarled, and Danica flinched even as the car screeched to a halt. Drake let himself out onto the pavement, waving Asher and Danica back as the Talos siblings all but tumbled out after him. “Where are you?”

 

“You know, darlin’, stop me if I’m wrong, but I think we’ve had this conversation before-”

 

“ _Hannibal_.”

 

“Esperanto,” King said breezily. “You?”

 

“Come back to Transylvania,” Drake said, carefully ignoring the question.

 

“I’m sorry, but that didn’t sound like a request, sweetcakes.”

 

“It wasn’t,” Drake snapped, close to the end of his patience, then hastily added, as King growled softly, “Why are you here? Old scores?”

 

“I couldn’t care less about Danica right now.” King’s tone had lost its playfulness.“Are you done checking on me, Daddy?”

 

“Why. Did. You. Leave. Was it _Blade_?”

 

“You know, the great thing about this blood ritual thing you press-ganged me into is that it broke whatever trickle of a hereditary link you had with me. You don’t drive me crazy anymore,” King said conversationally, after a moment’s pause.

 

“Hannibal-”

 

“Talking to you used to be an LSD trip and a sugar rush all at once, even halfway across the city. Being in the same _room_ with you was like being high on all the happy drugs in the world, and I sure as hell think you did that on purpose somehow.But now you’ve set me free, Drake. Free to remember what I swore a long time ago on my gumshoe partner’s grave when Danica made me. I was happier being her Enforcer, I think,” There was the sound of two precise gunshots, “Because I got to do what I liked all the time. Killing vampires.”

 

“Was that _all_?” Drake growled, frowning. “You could have said-”

 

“I’m tired of taking orders, Drake. Even from you. I played house for a few months and got bored of all the tea parties. If you’re in Esperanto, I’m touched, but you might want to watch your own back. King out.”

 

“Wait…” Drake swore loudly as the line cut off. He could feel the muscles under his skin twisting, the blood demon feeding greedily off his rage and frustration.

 

Asher chose that moment to ask, meekly, “Your Majesty?”

 

Drake clenched his free hand into a fist to still the ancient demon’s violence, but its serrated, multitonal growl still crept into his voice. “Find Hannibal King. Or find Blade. _Now_.”

  


V

 

“That’s Doctor Sommerfield,” Whistler said finally, after they re-focused the hacked feed a couple of times.Her father was perched on a ratty, evidently salvaged office chair before an untidy tangle of wiring, used cups and stacks of notes in various stages of dustiness.An array of four monitor screens flickered between the various security feeds in their hideout, and the last one was currently occupied by a feed hacked from the Talos tower.

 

Within it was a woman in sunglasses, nervously twisting her fingers together.A guard stood behind her, and she appeared to be in some sort of holding room with no furniture.

 

“She’s afraid,” Abigail observed.Behind her, Blade peered at the screen, grunted, but made no comment.“Who is she?”

 

“She was fairly well known in hunter circles.Yes, we _do_ have social circles,” Whistler said, with a scowl at Blade’s arched eyebrow and Abigail’s hastily swallowed snort.“She and her daughter Zoe disappeared half a year ago.Everyone thought they’d been killed.Sommerfield’s brilliant.Multiple phDs, graduated from MIT, specializations in hematology and pathology.She was working on a handful of serums.The cure for vampirism was one of them.I was going to arrange for you to meet her,” Whistler said, addressing Blade, then looking uncomfortably back at the screen.“She’d asked me a couple of times, but I never got around to it.”

 

“I don’t need a cure.” Blade said dismissively, glaring at the screen.“I won’t be able to fight like I should if I was cured.”

 

“It wasn’t for you.It would have been something good to carry, whenever we met vampires who’d been turned against their will.Fledglings, especially.There was that incident with you and Spiderman in that school-”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Blade said sharply, and Whistler raised his hands.

 

“All right, all right.”

 

“Has she been turned? It doesn’t look like it.” Abigail said, leaning forward as another couple of vampires filed into the room, heavyset and intimidating.“Why wouldn’t they turn her?”

 

“People have different reactions to being turned.Maybe they didn’t want to risk her mind.Maybe they wanted her to stay manageable.Didn’t want another Hannibal King on their hands.” Whistler shrugged.

 

Blade’s frown deepened at the mention of King.The vampire had promptly dropped off the radar after they’d had to move hideouts at his bequest, and Abigail hadn’t been able to call him since.King had a wide streak of paranoia that bordered on clinical, and she knew better than to try it while he was in one of his moods.Although she was worried for them, she knew that he was safer than the rest of them were; few vampires if at all would dare to harm King, and the worst she could imagine happening to her friend was for him to be packed off back to Transylvania.Where he would probably only escape again.

 

She had been wary of working with a vampire at the beginning, despite having been the one who had insisted on staying by his side (if out of curiosity) but there was something different about King.The utter lack of bloodlust when addressing humans, for one.The obvious envy that she still had her life and her soul.If Sommerfield had a cure, King would likely be the first one in line.

 

Filing this away for later use, Abigail sat up sharply when a vampire carrying a little girl walked into the room.The girl was dropped none too gently on the ground, running instantly into her mother’s arms and hugging her tightly.Sommerfield bowed her head, her shoulders shaking, and Abigail had to look away, affected by the rawness and desperation of the moment.

 

“Not turned.” Blade concluded flatly.The harsh thread of ice in his tone told Abigail that the hunter was thoroughly pissed off – more so than when she had taken King into the warehouse.Abigail was a little surprised… and relieved.Sure, the kidnap and blackmail of a mother through her young daughter was a heinous thing, but Blade had struck her as fairly emotionless up until a vampire was close at hand.

 

“She has to be behind the Von Esper’s recent lab successes,” Whistler said quietly, then he narrowed his eyes.“That’s Drake.”

 

A tall, thin male vampire and a female with similar features walked into the room, followed by a blank faced female vampire, then a tall, broad-shouldered vampire nearly on the verge of being thickset, powerful arms sheathed in a dark suit and a white shirt open almost to his navel, exposing chiseled muscle under gold chains.Sleek hair framed a broodingly handsome face, the eyes cruel and cold.Even through the grainy screen, the electric quality of his personal aura was obvious; every vampire that had been in the room straightened or took a small step backwards.

 

“Huh.” Blade pointed at Drake’s neck.“Look.”

 

“That’s King’s mark,” Whistler said, as Abigail squinted at the faint distortions on the feed.It looked like the scar of a vampire’s bite.“He’s wearing it openly.”

 

“King’s _mark_?” Abigail asked, blinking.

 

“It’s a vampire thing, though increasingly rare.” Whistler looked uncomfortable.“They mark their mates.In case you were wondering why your ‘friend’ wears scarves or high-collared shirts all the time, by the way.”

 

On the screen, Drake had growled something at the siblings – probably the Talos siblings, Abigail concluded, with the remaining female vampire being ‘that crazy bitch Annaline von Esper’ as described by King.Asher cringed, while Danica muttered something, then Drake shook his head slowly and stalked out of the room.Annaline stared vacuously at Sommerfield, then at Drake’s retreating back, before following.

 

“Someone’s not happy about something,” Blade said, if unnecessarily.Danica wrung her hands, even as Asher patted her on the shoulder nervously, but she shook him off and glared at Sommerfield, snapping something before stalking off, trailed by her brother.Sommerfield picked up her child as the guards escorted her out, mother and daughter clinging to each other.

 

“Looks like Drake let her keep her kid,” Abigail said, surprised.

 

“Or he could have said that he wanted them quartered and cooked for his dinner.” Whistler thumped the table, scattering plastic cups.“God _damnit_.I’m going to make some calls.We need to get her out of there.Maybe I can call in some favors.”

 

“Drake’s there.No other hunters are going to come once they know he’s there, and it won’t be fair for you to leave that part out.” Blade exhaled loudly, frustrated, turning to grab his coat from a chair.

 

“Where are you going?” Abigail slipped off her chair quickly.

 

“Going to take a look at the Talos tower again.Check the security.”

 

“No heroics, Blade.” Whistler was flipping through the rest of the feed, apparently looking at patrol routes.“Abigail, sit down, girl.You’re only going to slow him down.”

 

“ _King_ would let me go with him,” Abigail said irritably.“He’d say that two sets of eyes are better than one.”

 

“Yeah? Well, King isn’t here right now.Wherever he is.” Whistler stared back at the now empty Sommerfield cell, chewing angrily on his lower lip.“ _Damn_.If only Drake wasn’t there, I’d have suggested that the three of us give it a crack ourselves.We’ve been studying the Talos tower for years.It’d be tough work, but if it’s just a search and rescue, it’s doable.”

 

“King.King could do it.He could get in there.Maybe even get her out.” Abigail said suddenly, as the thought occurred.“King would be the only person in the world where Drake being there would be an advantage.”

 

“Assuming you trust him,” Whistler retorted sharply.

 

“Assuming he doesn’t fuck up,” Blade muttered, though without her father’s malice.

 

“King would want a cure for vampirism more than anyone,” Abigail pointed out.“He’ll do it.”

 

“And if Drake finds out about his motive?” Whistler asked grudgingly, though Abigail took it as encouragement that he didn’t dispute her premise.

 

“I’m sure none of us are going to tell him about it.”

 

“How are you going to contact him? You haven’t been able to call him since he took off.”

 

“He checks his twitter when he’s bored.”

 

“You’re fucking _shitting_ me.”

 

VI

 

Hannibal had been at the airport when he’d decided to make use of the airport’s free wifi, and had, after five minutes of Internet and a twenty-three minute phonecall, thoroughly regretted it.Casting a brief, mournful glance back at the check-in counters, he sighed loudly.

 

He had been _hoping_ to make it out of the country, then call Drake from wherever in an attempt to lead the vampire out of the city and let the others operate in peace, then give Drake the slip and head back once it was safe.

 

Hannibal knew that if Sommerfield was the Von Esper’s only hope of getting something impressive up posthaste, it was very unlikely that she or her daughter would be harmed.Even as mysteriously crazy as Annaline was now, the Von Espers or even Danica and Asher were never the sort to waste talent.Sommerfield was a hematology expert.She could be useful to them for a long time, if she was smart, and by all accounts that King had heard from intelligence reports, she was one bright cookie.

 

However, he also knew that Blade and the Whistlers were very unlikely to accept his logic, and as pressing as Hannibal’s instinctive urge to keep gunning for his freedom was, he knew that he _had_ to stop the purification experiments.Not just because it was unthinkable to have more than one blood demon running about.So Hannibal was going to have to do the self-sacrificial schtick and give himself up.At the worst-case scenario, he’d give Transylvania another year or so until Drake stopped checking on him and do a runner again.

 

It wasn’t about the potential vampirism cure either – not entirely.Before Hannibal had met Drake, he’d have embraced a cure, wholeheartedly.Now, he wasn’t sure – and he wasn’t quite ready to take a long, close look at _why_.

 

This left a dilemma.If Hannibal walked up to the nearest Talos familiar and owned up, it was certain that Danica, at the least, would be deeply suspicious of his motives.He would have to get caught in a way that wouldn’t lead to him having to be restrained until he was due to be shipped back to buttfuck nowhere, and which would seem entirely plausible for a vampire that had successfully evaded the best of the clans’ security net for the better part of three months.

 

Hannibal sat down at a row of chairs between a fat Hispanic lady with a small mountain of luggage and a pimply Asian kid munching on a McChicken, and closed his eyes, thinking hard.

 

Another problem about getting caught in the airport was that Drake might simply decide to take the opportunity to leave with him immediately.Drake didn’t like modern cities with their incomprehensible structures and endless thrums of city sounds.The High King, however, had a strong and old-fashioned concept of debts owing.This meant that Hannibal would have to be – as distasteful as the idea was to his personal pride – caught by one of the Talos familiars or thug vampires.

 

God _damnit_.

 

First, he was going to have to pay a quick trip to the hangars.And then he would need a change of clothes…

 

VII

 

Asher was all but skipping to keep up with Drake’s pace; his sister and Annaline, on the other hand, possessed a healthier sense of self-preservation and had opted not to tag along into the detention facility under the airport after Drake had backhanded a Talos familiar into the nearest wall with a wet crunch for taking too long to get out of his way.

 

The uniform, sterile cyan of the concrete walls seemed to stretch on forever, dotted by heavy steel doors.It was evident that this part of the airport was controlled by Talos; probably to contain rival vampires caught trying to leave or enter the city.Most of the cells were empty, and the place smelled strongly of disinfectant.

 

Asher’s constant nervous babble was also becoming annoying.Perhaps unaware that the High King was seriously contemplating breaking a centuries’ old vow by pulling out his tongue, Asher rambled on, “… and one of the bomb dogs was alerted for some reason, and they pulled him into one of the rooms to have a talk with him and that’s when one of our familiars recognized him-”

 

“Asher.Silence.” Drake growled, and Asher’s mouth snapped shut. 

 

As far as Drake had gathered, King had somehow managed to sabotage all of the private jets owned by Talos, Von Esper, and the one belonging to Drake himself, before rounding back into the airport.While attempting to board a night flight into the next city, a bomb sniffer dog had gone wild and King had been taken into routine custody for interrogation, where it’d been discovered that the dog had reacted to a freshly cleaned spilled food stain on King’s jeans from an accident in the canteen.By the time King had nearly talked himself out of custody, Asher had somehow arranged for him to be brought into Processing with only the loss of four vampire guards and the incapacitation of three familiars.

 

Asher was so cowed that he merely pointed at the door to King’s cell when they reached it.The vampire guards huddled outside it straightened nervously when Drake approached.

 

“No one is to interrupt,” Drake said coldly.“Understand?”

 

Asher nodded vigorously, and Drake peered into the cell.King was sprawled on the bolted chair with his feet on the bolted table, arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.His long white shirtsleeves were bloody to the elbows and the red scarf around his neck had slipped just teasingly low enough to bare the tip of Drake’s mark.Iron gray jeans were tucked into calf-high lace-down leather boots with yellow stitch trimming; King’s longer hair looked somehow softer, and his shaved chin made him seem younger, more _vulnerable_. Mouth beginning to water, Drake wasn’t sure how or why he’d ever been careless enough to let King run.

 

King looked up sharply when Drake entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him, instantly scrambling into a combat-ready crouch on the chair and desk.His quick smirk underscored the wary tension on his wiry shoulders.“Hello the cavalry!”

 

Drake didn’t bother to say something in return, instead grabbing King by his collar and forcing him up against the nearest wall before the other vampire could react; a snarl of outrage hiccupped into a choked gasp when Drake dragged the red scarf aside and sank his fangs as deeply as he could over the scar on King’s neck, briefly scraping bone.King jerked underneath him but stopped struggling, his head falling back against the concrete with a groan, bloodied hands wrapping around Drake’s shoulders, whining when he shoved his knee between King’s thighs.King was growing hard, his arousal and anger thick and intoxicating, his hips automatically grinding invitingly up between them.

 

Fingers clawed weakly against his neck and shoulders when Drake worked open his jeans and shoved them down just far enough that he could cup his hands over King’s rump.“H-hey,” King stuttered, his voice shallow and drugged, “We’re _not_ exactly in private here _oh_ , fuck _you_ -”

 

Drake bit harder as he worked a dry finger up into King, tension ebbing only when he was satisfied that no one else had been with his chosen mate since himself in Transylvania.Muscles clenched sweetly tight on the digit, and King shuddered against him; fingers scrabbling at his shoulders and neck curled up to his skull and crushed him down even as King pressed up into his mouth with a badly stifled whimper.

 

Drake drank until King slumped dizzily into his arms, then he reluctantly pulled away, licking at the wound until it closed, supporting King’s weight easily with hands splayed around his lower back and curled under his right thigh.Trapped between his body and the wall, his eyes dazed from pleasure and his head lolling back to bare more of his neck, King was stunningly _alluring._ Drake licked up the column of his neck to the Adam’s apple and felt it bob under his tongue as King coughed, and he wanted to do nothing more than bend his mate over the table and reclaim him.

 

Thoroughly.

 

King submitted to his kiss willingly enough, but struggled weakly as Drake picked him up and propped him against the edge of the desk.“Here? _Seriously_?” The sarcasm came out as a weak whisper, but Drake paused amidst settling himself between King’s spreading thighs.

 

“Then?”

 

“Somewhere else?”

 

“Where?”

 

King somehow managed to look irritable, weakened as he was and at Drake’s mercy.“You mean, something about a drug detention room in… a fucking _airport_ … is, I don’t know, _appropriate_?”

 

Drake frowned, trying to parse King’s slang, and his mate sighed loudly.“Okay.Let’s try this in simpler language.If you want to fuck, we’re doing it on a bed.In private.”

 

“Why are _you_ the one making demands?” Drake growled, his eyes flicking hungrily between the fresh wound on King’s neck and that playful, seductive smirk that never failed to make his prick ache with hungry want.

 

“Because I think you want to come in my mouth, and that sure as hell isn’t going to happen in this room. _Capisce_?”

 

“… We’re leaving.”

 

VIII

 

Approximately a day back into the loving arms of his immortal partner, Hannibal was no longer entirely certain if he was regretting it, and this frightened him enough to send out a quick twitter message on his phone to let Abigail know – overtly – that he was in, and to suggest very strongly that Hannibal personally felt that the quality of ‘in’ should equate ‘temporary’.Hannibal reasoned that _most_ probably, even if Asher had managed to remotely hack into his custom-made Blackberry, he already knew about the account anyway, so it wasn’t as though it was any skin off his nose.

 

Right now Hannibal occupied himself in browsing the email account that Drake and the others knew about, while Drake slept on a hair-trigger, one arm firmly around Hannibal’s hips.Drake needed more sleep than the usual vampire, possibly because of his demonic alter ego, but any attempts to move woke him up, and after attempt number five, in which Hannibal had managed to winkle a pillow underneath Drake’s arm and lever it off his hip, Drake had threatened to chain him to the bed.

 

In normal circumstances, Hannibal wouldn’t give a fuck about the threats, even from Drake.However, he was here for a reason, and staying on Drake’s good side would make it easier; and secondly, on the last attempt with the pillow, Drake’s expression hadn’t been that of irritation but a sort of frustrated bewilderment that had looked so out of place that it had shocked him into silence.If he hadn’t known better, Drake would have looked… _hurt_.

 

The sights from Drake’s room in the Talos tower didn’t seem any more appealing than the last time he’d been here.The luxurious suite didn’t look any less like a prison, even the last time when he’d still been on the collar end of Danica’s leash.In theory, Hannibal was the second most powerful vampire in the world, status wise (at the least).

 

It was just a little too bad that vampire _numero uno_ was so goddamned possessive.It had been funny, for a while, and then it had just become a plain nuisance.

 

Hannibal sorted through the junk mail, subscriptions and the annoying petition or standard fawning fanmail from clan vampires without really reading them.He could tell which emails were from Drake, anyway, even without looking at the sender.Drake had never gotten the hang of a keyboard, and his emails tended to be blank, with terse messages in either full uppercase or lowercase in the subject lines.

 

Most of the emails were pretty much the same, variants of ‘where are you?’ and ‘come home’, and Hannibal was wondering whether Drake had somehow managed to get someone to set up an automatic email bot for him when an email alert had him scroll back to start.

 

It was one of Abby’s, disguised as spam mail about Viagra.Hannibal clicked on the link, scrolled past paragraphs of copy pasted crank data until he came to the image of the bottle.Enlarging the doctored fine print on the label gave him Abby’s message.

 

 _They’re moving her_.

 

Hannibal carefully closed the page, deleted the email, and closed his eyes.He wasn’t _that_ good at thinking on the spot, especially when he was still recovering from Drake’s concentrated attempts to break their bed with Hannibal as the blunt instrument.He still ached the hell over; not even a vampire’s natural healing could keep up with _that_ much abuse. However enjoyable.At the time.Right.

 

Tossing the phone onto the dresser, Hannibal poked Drake pointedly on the elbow.“Hey.”Drake didn’t move, but Hannibal could tell that the High King was now awake.“I need the bathroom.”

 

It was a long moment before Drake uttered an irritated growl.The fingers on his hip tightened.It took a further ten minutes of squirming and cursing before Drake woke up all the way, looking pissed off as all hell for having to, and Hannibal decided to forestall what could be a long and physically involved argument by rolling the High King onto his back and biting him over the still-fresh wound on the scar.

 

Huh.He didn’t remember doing that last night.Admittedly, he hadn’t been all there in the last hour or so when they had been fucking like rabbits.

 

Drake hissed, going rigid, then relaxing as Hannibal purred, involuntarily.He’d been lying over the phonecall; or not entirely – Drake’s _blood_ still drove him nine kinds of crazy.It always took all the self-control he could pull up to drag himself back; the blood didn’t do shit for him nutrition wise, but it tasted like what Hannibal imagined a nearly pure hit of heroin would be like.A total shock to the system, without the lethal OD.From the first shot, he was already an addict – not that Drake seemed to guess, thank God.

 

“Good morning, honey,” Hannibal said, in the most annoyingly syrupy tone he could muster, once his brain reasserted control of his mouth.“Can I use the bathroom now? Or are we going to do this cops and robbers roleplay where you hose me down with some sort of power spray?”

 

“Fine,” Drake rubbed his eyes, then dragged himself to a sitting-up position out of what looked like sheer force of will when Hannibal slipped off the bed.

 

“You can sleep a bit more if you want.”

 

“I will not be letting you out of my sight,” Drake retorted bluntly.“Not until I can trust you not to start running.”

 

“You’re _so_ lucky that vampires don’t need to pee.”

 

It was a measure of how sleepy the High King was that Drake didn’t even bother to try and feel him up during the shower, instead curling up in the farthest corner of the tub and dozing off, not even waking up when Hannibal turned the spray on him out of a sense of latent malice. He _did_ stir briefly when Hannibal dried down and headed out of the bathroom to check out the walk-in wardrobe, but otherwise didn’t move.


	5. A Shade of Infinite [3/4]

**Title:** A Shade of Infinite [3/4]  
 **Fandom:** Blade Trinity, Blood Magic AU  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Pairing:** Drake/Hannibal  
 **Beta:** [](http://retardedcookie.livejournal.com/profile)[**retardedcookie**](http://retardedcookie.livejournal.com/)  - thank you so much! :3 Added some additional stuff after the beta = all remaining mistakes are mine.  
 **Art by:** [](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/profile)[**chosenfire28**](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/)    
 **A/N:** For [](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[**vampirebigbang**](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/) - Continues from Blood Magic, where Hannibal is also a vampire.  Married life isn't all that it's cracked up to be.  


 

Instead of going to the trouble of buying new clothes, it seemed that the Talos clan had simply raided all his known hideouts and fitted the wardrobe with his stuff.Bastards.Feeling a little irritable, Hannibal picked out jeans and a shirt, and was buckling on his belt when a deep, liquid snarl of fury raised all the hairs on the back of his neck and over his arms.

 

Darting out of the wardrobe in a defensive crouch, Hannibal found himself face to face with the blood demon alter ego, which was never a fun occurrence.Strange red and black scaly skin, check.Horns and leather wings, check.Gaping leech mouth, check.

 

Yelping in shock and backpedaling, Hannibal crashed against a wall even as Talos guards burst into the room.The demon snarled at them, its fucked-up split jaws yawning open, taking a step forward, then it shook itself like a dog and straightened.Hannibal averted his eyes through the flesh melting, disgusting sequence of shapeshifting, until Drake cleared a mostly human throat.

 

“All of you.Out.Not you, Hannibal.”

 

Hannibal waited until the door closed and he counted to ten.“What the hell, Drake?”

 

“You weren’t there,” Drake’s voice slurred briefly into harsh consonants, then he cleared his throat again, rubbing at his eyes and uttering something incomprehensible in Romanian under his breath.“I thought you were gone.”

 

“I was putting on clothes.Which I think you should too, not that, you know, I’m criticizing you or something, just that this part of the Talos complex isn’t really a nudist sort of-”

 

“I want to sleep,” Drake said, and it would have been petulant on anyone else but the oldest vampire in the world.“You have had your bath.Go back to bed.”

 

“I sort of recall you once saying that this was meant to be between _equals_ ,” Hannibal growled.Drake’s tone grated like hell, and that fey madness that had made him run away from the most comfortable gig of his life was welling up again.“So why does it sound like you’re calling all the shots?”

 

“Why did you run away?” Drake retorted flatly.“Without even talking to me?”

 

Hannibal knew that tactically speaking, he had to shut up.Right now.Make nice to Drake, and try to get him to do _something_ about Sommerfield, but he was still a little lightheaded from the shot of Drake’s blood on an empty stomach rankling with festering anger; Hannibal hadn’t eaten since he’d found out that Drake was in town, and he sure as hell hadn’t come to terms with Drake’s Landing.

 

“You farm humans in your castle,” Hannibal’s hands were balled into fists, and he couldn’t swallow the words now even if he wanted to.“That cute little town by the lake with all the cute little houses, it’s just one big cattle pen.”

 

“The town has always been part of my fief,” Drake looked a little nonplussed, which pissed Hannibal off even longer.“Since the beginning, they have been under my protection.”

 

“Yeah, the same way a farmer protects his livestock.Funny how you haven’t gotten around to, say, branding their ears or something.”

 

“They come willingly to the castle,” Drake said, clearly keeping a tight lid on his own temper.“We do not take enough to kill them.”

 

“And that girl?”

 

“ _What_ girl?”

 

“That girl who couldn’t have been past sweet sixteen,” Hannibal snarled, “I walked in on you feeding on her with your hand up her skirt!”

 

“The feeding process is faster with stimulation,” Drake snapped, “As I explained.She was only a human and would never have taken your place, _and­_ -”

 

“And you killed her!”

 

“To prove it!”

 

Hannibal choked down on the bile welling in his throat, his fingertips slippery from the blood from the gashes in his palm from his nails.The stateroom with the girl ensconced on Drake’s lap, the vacuous look of blank pleasure on her face, the way Drake had just casually snapped her neck at his first outraged protest and dropped her on the cold stone like so much litter.It had been the final straw, the last inch that had forced his eyes open to exactly _what_ he had been playing house with.Faced with something he couldn’t swallow, Hannibal simply did what he’d always done, even in life.

 

“So,” Hannibal said carefully, and his voice was eerily calm even to his own ears, “If I hadn’t walked in, you’d have taken your fill and let her go?”

 

“I can control who I turn,” Drake said, tilting his head and frowning.It seemed the High King was finally awake enough to perceive the eggshells under his feet.“Yes.She would have gone home, perhaps a little richer.Why are you upset?”

 

“If you have to _ask_ me that-”

 

Drake was frighteningly fast in whatever state he was in.Hannibal was pinned against the wall again, this time with his wrists above his head, his eyes caught by the intensity of the High King’s stare.“I _know_ you are upset that she died.If I had known you would run because of _that_ , I would not have killed her.What I want to know is _why_ you continue to cling to a set of principles that became outdated once you were turned.”

 

“A human sympathizer doesn’t look good on the arm of the High King, huh.”

 

Drake’s lip thinned in irritation.“And why should the High King care what his Court thinks of him? The only opinion I want is yours.If that girl’s death upset you, then there will be no more human deaths in Drake’s Landing.”

 

Hannibal’s instinctive indignation at the perceived patronization was fighting a rearguard battle under Drake’s hypnotic stare, and then conceded the field when the High King pressed a soft kiss over his mark, and then another, higher up, until he was mouthing at the sensitive spot just under Hannibal’s chin.Drake still smelled of sex and everything that Hannibal ever wanted, at least when he was this close to Drake and the faint smell of Drake’s dried blood, and as big hands gently pulled open his shirt, Hannibal’s traitorous cock informed him happily that he was ready for the next round-

 

The Blackberry burbled at the dresser, and Drake tensed, looking around for the foreign sound.Hannibal took the reprieve to slip out of Drake’s grasp and head for his phone, half expecting to be tackled to the bed at any point.Not that his libido was entirely against the idea, but Sommerfield could be halfway across the city by now.

 

Hannibal stared at the caller ID, then flinched when he realized Drake was beside him.“Who is it?” The High King’s tone was edged.“Blade?”

 

“I’m not sure Blade knows his way around a phone.” It was Abby, and thankfully paranoia had always had Hannibal refuse to use a contact list, instead keeping all the numbers of the (admittedly tiny) group of people he’d ever had an interest in keeping alive within his head.“It’s Greenpeace.I gave them fifty bucks over the Haiti thing and they’ve been calling me back ever since.” Hannibal slipped the phone into his pocket, as though hanging up, but actually thumbing the volume all the way down and then picking up.“Wear clothes? Please?”

 

Drake snorted, stalking over to the wardrobe.“Stay there.”

“We’re going to have a long talk about some definitions about this ‘equal’ thing.” Hannibal stared out of the window, but he stayed put as Drake grabbed a towel from the bathroom to dry off before heading into the wardrobe.“How long have you been back with the Talos clan?”

 

“Since I arrived.”

 

“Had much fun?”

 

Drake sniffed, from within the wardrobe.“They have some human woman working for them, over the so-called ‘purification’ experiments.They hold her child.I had them return the child to the woman.Such methods are not honorable.”

 

“Working for them?”

 

“I do not get involved in Clan business.And neither should you.”

 

“If they have some kidnapped woman and her kid I sure as hell am going to get involved.”

 

Drake poked his head out of the wardrobe briefly enough to shoot him an irritated stare.“We are returning to Transylvania once Andrei arranges another plane.Talos business is not our own.”

 

“And you’re not curious about the woman or the purification process?”

 

“Now that you are here? No.” Drake emerged in dress pants and a loose button up shirt, the collar down partway to his chest to flaunt Hannibal’s fresh mark.“If it would make you any happier,” he growled, once Drake took a full look at Hannibal’s expression, “I will ask the Talos clan to ensure their well-being.”

 

“Fine. And I want to talk to her.”

 

“Would you come back quietly to Transylvania with me if you do?”

 

Hoping that whoever was on the other line – Abby or Blade – was paying attention, Hannibal shrugged.“Sure.” He was already in this deep, anyway; and even if the rest failed to launch a rescue, it wasn’t as though he couldn’t run away again.

 

Drake stared at him thoughtfully, then marched over to the door and swung it open, nearly flattening the guards behind it.“You.Fetch Asher.”

 

IX

 

The human woman was just on the verge of being bundled off someplace else, and Drake didn’t particularly blame the Talos clan.King didn’t bother to hide his animosity to the clan, let alone to the somewhat regrettable measures that the Talos and Von Esper had taken in the dubious name of vampiric science, and if Drake had been in their shoes he would have shifted his most precious resource offsite posthaste, as well.

 

As it were, King’s insistence on a meeting with the human rattled Danica hard enough that she’d even dredged up some of her ancestor’s bullishness and attempted to talk Drake down from his orders.The steel was there for a heartbeat, then gone the next when he’d bared his teeth, and that was that.

 

King had been in a good mood – schadenfreude tended to cheer him up that way –and had even allowed Drake’s arm around his waist up until the human’s holding cell, at which point he’d turned around with his most placating smile.Instantly, Drake’s defenses went up.

 

“Honey, would you mind waiting outside?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s a ‘yes, I will wait outside’?”

 

“No.”

 

King’s brow creased briefly, and he pouted.“It’s a bloody steel and concrete room in there, with no exit except the one we’re facing.What’s the harm?”

 

“Asher said that the woman was a scientist, and that she was working on a cure when they had taken her.A cure for vampirism,” Drake elaborated. When King’s expression carefully stayed put, he then withdrew a little of his usual control from his voice to let the demon’s slurring rumble out, just to let his mate know what he thought of _that_.“I think I need to accompany you.”

 

King’s expression shut down – it’d been the wrong thing to say, but before Drake could find a dignified way of backpedaling in front of a rapt audience of thralls and Talos guards, King pulled pointedly away from his grasp.“Well, let’s fucking get this over with, then.”

 

“Hannibal-”

 

King ignored him, opening the door and slipping inside.Drake followed him, but jerked his chin in the direction of the exit at the vampire guards within.The door clicked shut with an air of finality, and the little girl in the human woman’s lap curled up more tightly.

 

King didn’t speak to her immediately.Instead, he took what looked like a wet, wadded piece of tissue from his pocket and took careful aim.It hit the camera lens in the top right corner of the room with a wet sound, and stuck fast.King shrugged when Drake arched an eyebrow at him.“British boarding school.”

 

The woman tilted her face in King’s direction, frowning, following him as he sat down on the bolted chair opposite her on the small square table.“Doctor Sommerfield and Zoe.Hi.I’m-”

 

“You’re Hannibal King,” Sommerfield said in a clipped tone.

 

King blinked, seemingly impressed.“Wow! Is that a blind person thing?”

 

“I have ears,” Sommerfield said dryly, “And my captors don’t seem to like you very much.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t know what I did, but I’ve been off the Talos Christmas Card list for ages.You’d think that I piddled on the carpet or something-”

 

“What do you want?” Sommerfield cut in bluntly.“Satisfying a little curiosity on humanity? I hear you’ve been running the circuit for a bit, in L.A., putting a hunter through the ropes.Not a lot of people have been happy with that.Her father’s quite well-respected.”

 

“Respect doesn’t do much when it comes to saving her ass,” King said, even as Drake frowned at him.

 

“What hunter?”

 

“This is why I told you to wait outside, _honey_ ,” The exaggerated endearment was pitched to be annoying, and it was working.“I don’t cradle snatch, unlike certain people, so you don’t need to worry, Casanova.”

 

“ _Hannibal_ …”

 

“We’ll discuss this later, all right?” King’s tone switched from archly playful to steel all of a sudden, and he half rose from the chair, hands clenched on the table and on the chair frame.

 

Drake scented aggression, and his fingers twitched in response, but he grit his teeth and nodded tightly.Pushing the point would mean that King would fight him now despite knowing full well that he would lose, hell come the consequences, and Drake knew that if he _ever_ wanted King to be fully his again, he would have to bite down on his own pride and give a little ground.For now.

 

“Sorry.Domestic dispute,” King said apologetically to Sommerfield, who was clutching her daughter tightly.Zoe was staring wide-eyed at them, her fingers clenched in her mother’s sleeve.

 

“You’re not like the others,” Sommerfield said, after an awkward silence.“You don’t sound like them.”

 

“I guess I’ve been out long enough that the poncy asshole vibe kinda slid off me.”

 

“No, your voice,” Sommerfield looked thoughtful.“It doesn’t have the same tonal edge as other vampires.You sound human.It’s quite interesting.I’ve heard about you, Hannibal King.You hate other vampires, and you drink blood only from donor packets.Perhaps this affects brain chemistry.”

 

“I’m a celebrity? Fuck yeah.”

 

Sommerfield ignored the sarcasm.“Most of the hunters will kill you if they can.You’re still a vampire.I would like to get a sample of your blood to study, if I could.It should be interesting.”

 

“If you’re looking for interesting blood, it’s standing right next to me.” King said dryly.

 

“I have seen his blood.” Sommerfield kept her gaze straight, if a little off-focus.“Or at least, I have had an assistant describe it to me, or had it printed out in Braille.”

 

“How did you get my blood?” Drake asked sharply.

 

“I gather you bled some, when you were sparring with King in the Talos practice rooms.” Sommerfield said calmly.“It is a most fascinating thing.Your DNA strands have metastasized out of recognition.There’s a little of it that’s human in there, and a little of it that’s vampire, but most of it is absolutely incomprehensible.”

 

“The blood demon.” King supplied.“How the hell did you recreate it on rats?”

 

“Spliced and extracted, along the same theory as the vampire bite, it acts like a virus.There was something similar a while ago, an infestation called the Reapers that Blade had to put down.I applied cross principles.There hasn’t been much progress since Annaline.”

 

King stared pointedly at Drake, who shrugged.He had no real interest now in Annaline now that his primary objective in this dreary city had been completed, and hadn’t really bothered to have his Guard look into the Von Esper matter.Clan business was, after all, Clan business.

 

Forging on, King asked, “I was meaning to ask what happened that turned Ice Bitch Queen into a crack addict.”

 

“When the Dragonetti came, she injected herself with the latest serum at that time.Unlike the other vampire test subjects, it didn’t kill her.”

 

“Annaline has a blood demon?” King asked warily.

 

“No.But she hasn’t liquefied.That’s good progress.” Sommerfield pointed out, if with the faintest hint of malice.Drake didn’t blame her – the woman had a lot to hate the Talos and the Von Esper Clans for.“The Talos Clan intervened and took over the project.I’m still working on why Annaline wasn’t affected.”

 

“Her brain’s shot all to hell and that’s not affected?”

 

“For many vampires, brain activity slowly deteriorates due to the blood virus that causes vampirism.Eventually, a very old vampire will go feral, and make mistakes, and die.That’s why there aren’t any vampires older than a couple hundred years.Other than the first one and the ones he turned more or less directly, of course,” Sommerfield allowed, her clear personal interest in her work overriding her fear as she turned her head slightly as though to address Drake himself.“The blood demon serum accelerated her speed and her reflexes, but as you have no doubt observed, the brain chemical deterioration has turned her into a shell of her usual self.It was quite interesting.”

“I bet.” King said, with relish.“If only Danica had tried it too.”

 

Sommerfield’s answering laugh was more like an ugly bark, which spoke volumes about her hatred that her calm tone and controlled expression had not.“We should speak again sometime, Hannibal King.Perhaps in better circumstances.”

 

“And why’s that?” King’s tone was deceptively mild, but Drake could see his fingers twitch briefly in his lap.

 

“This is enough.” Drake interrupted, as Sommerfield opened her mouth.“Andrei’s plane should have arrived by now.”

 

“Sure thing,” King said, if reluctantly, after a pause.“Whatever you say, boss.Bye, Doc.And little Doc.”

 

Drake was at the door, about to knock to summon Asher, but out of the corner of his eye he saw King slip his phone into the little girl’s voluminous wool sweater.He sighed, without turning around.“What did I say about Clan business, Hannibal?”

 

“Apparently, it can be left to run its course while we go home?” King suggested, only playfulness in his tone.When Drake turned, annoyed, King smiled, lopsided, as though sheepish, but his eyes were narrowed in challenge.“We _are_ going home, right?”

 

Drake stared hard at his mate, then at the nervous smile of the little girl and the thinned lips of her mother, the blind woman’s knuckles whitening over her daughter’s arms, smelling her rank fear.His mate’s fingers were curling and uncurling, and he was shifting his weight between his feet; Drake could recognize the warning signs of King spoiling for a fight.

 

Instinctively, the alpha predator in him wanted to bite back, to take the phone from the girl and crush it, then drag King back with him to Transylvania anyway… and perhaps, in doing so, destroy everything between them.He could see that King was expecting it to happen, from his set jaw and the hard tension in his shoulders; King hadn’t meant for Drake to pick up the sleight of hand.Cornered, an animal would only turn destructive, and sometimes vampires were no different.

 

“So we are,” Drake said slowly, without breaking eye contact, and King’s eyes widened, as though in surprise, then he looked away quickly, swallowing hard.Drake rapped sharply on the door, waiting impatiently for the guards to open it.He’d had quite enough of this city.

 

X

 

The posse (Abigail couldn’t really call it anything else) of rag-tag vampire hunters that Whistler had summoned up on his ‘connections’ had been wary of Blade, but had been willing to listen up once Whistler laid out the battle plan.Whistler had a trace on King’s phone, and they were gambling on the route.Right now, it looked like they’d hit the jackpot, as the red blip on Whistler’s laptop screen edged into the map of the tunnels, approaching them.

 

It seemed that the vampires hadn’t bothered to search Zoe or put a guard on the girl and her mother inside their van.Abigail kept up a constant soft conversation with Zoe from the car as the roadblock in the tunnel was set up, trying to keep her calm, and Zeke had purposefully swerved into an ice-cream van, and was currently arguing with the van’s driver even as the cars began to pile up into a jam.

 

So far, so good.

 

Abigail didn’t like having to do a rescue in such a public location with so many civilians, but a tunnel would be the best place they could extract Sommerfield and Zoe without the vampire contingent scattering in all directions.The first black van in the line of black vans came gently to a stop before the multi-lane pileup, and even as Whistler signaled to Blade from behind his vantage point up on the service catwalk high up along the tunnel wall, things began to go wrong.

 

A slim, vacant-eyed vampire woman stepped out of the van – _Annaline von Esper_ , Abigail’s brain reminded her – followed by a set of vampires toting submachine guns.A quick burst of gunfire sent civilians screaming and running blindly, leaving the vampire hunters diving for cover as they were easily picked out from the crowd.

 

Annaline ignored it all, striding up to the first car and sinking manicured fingers into the doors.There was a loud crunch, then the car was tossed aside in a scream of shearing metal, to smash against a car on the far lane.Incredibly, it didn’t explode, but Annaline was already walking towards Zeke’s car, still expressionless.

 

Zeke took a shaky step back, raising his crossbow, and abruptly collapsed.Abigail blinked, then had to take a few deep gulps of air to keep the bile down as she saw Zeke’s severed head roll off his shoulders and under a car.Annaline stared down at the crumpled body, then at the arterial blood splashing her, and smiled faintly, just as Blade went for her with a roar of anger, katanas upraised.

 

The loud crack of a sniper rifle spurred Abigail into action.Tearing her eyes away from Blade’s battle, she aimed her crossbow at the advancing vampires.The first in the line snapped back, a silver bolt between his eyes, and others screamed as the Johnston brothers finally got their act together, aiming a set of high-voltage ultraviolet lamps at the vampires.Blood and the stench of blistering skin.Abigail reloaded, gritting her teeth, and praying that Esther and her team had made it.

 

A car to her right folded down the middle with a sickening _crunch_ as Blade slammed into it, twitching and coughing blood.Annaline straightened from her throw with the unnatural fluidity of a marionette, bloodied hands upraised, grinning now, her eyes unfocused, as though at some childish, private joke.She took a step towards Blade, and Abigail broke from the game plan, turning her crossbow sights to the right.

 

Incredibly, Annaline stepped aside at the first thrum of the crossbow, the bolt missing her heart to embed itself in her left arm, but she turned her attention to Abigail, tilting her head.

 

“Yeah, you!” Abigail swallowed down her fear and backed away, reloading her crossbow bolt.“Come on, then!”

 

She could hear her father shouting something at her, even as Annaline sprang at her like a coiled snake.Somehow, incredibly, Abigail’s muscles managed to react in time, diving to the left and thanking God for all the practice training sessions with King.Still, Annaline was faster even than the Enforcer; Abigail grit her teeth as claw marks opened in bloody ribbons over her flank.She managed a second shot from her crossbow even as sniper fire cracked a chip off the asphalt behind Annaline, distracting the vampire into looking up onto the service walkway after Whistler, and this time, the bolt slammed into the vampire’s kneecap, shattering it.

 

Annaline looked down stupidly at the bolt, frowning, then staggering back as a white stake seemed to materialize in her chest.Abigail looked behind her to see Blade, crouched and grim, another stake already clutched in his right fist even as the female vampire began to fall.

 

The stragglers cleaned up well after that.The Talos siblings weren’t in the convoy – perhaps predictably – and thankfully, Esther’s strike team had managed to extract Sommerfield and Zoe in the confusion without running into too much trouble.Other than Zeke, they’d had two other fatalities on their side and nearly everyone bore injuries, but they’d _done_ it.

 

Back in the hideout, while Zoe was sitting on a table with her feet dangling over the edge, watching Whistler patch up a nasty gash on Simon’s arm, Abigail asked her for King’s phone.Whistler had insisted that they switch it off, sweep it for bugs and take out the battery before heading for the hideout, which Zoe had reluctantly agreed to do.The girl held both battery and Blackberry in her small hands, like a talisman.Close by, Esther’s team and Sommerfield were speaking quietly in low tones, looking tense.Sommerfield had once been part of Esther’s team, Abigail gathered, but it was all water under the bridge.

 

“He asked me to keep it,” Zoe shook her head, running small fingers over the tiny keyboard.“Some day when he’s free, he said he’ll come back for it.”

 

“It’ll be sooner than you think,” Abigail said wryly, ruffling Zoe’s short-cut hair.

 

“Really?” Zoe looked down at the Blackberry again.“I thought all vampires were bad.I never said ‘thank you’.”

 

“Tell you what,” Abigail glanced over at Blade, who was sitting by himself on the practice mat, legs crossed and swathed with bandages, pointedly ignoring everyone else, “I’ll give it a year, and then I’ll remind him, all right?”

 

“Good,” Zoe decided, with a bright, little girl smile.

 

“Let’s get you some cocoa.”

 

XI

 

The interior of the borrowed jet was lavishly tasteless.King had arched an eyebrow at the heavy maroon velvet drapes along the hull of the plane, made a face at the plush gold and saffron divans, sneered at the faux mahogany fittings and rolled his eyes at the giant crest of the Dragonetti, stitched over the tapestry quilt of the bed in the ensuite cabin.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” King shot back over his shoulder, as they both contemplated the ghastly spectacle, feet sinking into thick emerald carpets.

 

“It did not cross my mind.” Drake retorted, and then added, “ _You_ sabotaged _our_ plane.”

 

“ _Your_ plane,” King corrected, pushing past him to flop down on one of the divans, crossing his legs.“No plane of mine would have fucking gold plated taps.You, I want some sort of laptop.With internet access.Oh, for fuck’s sake,” King snapped, as the hapless Dragonetti thrall of a pretty flight attendant looked instantly to Drake for his approval.

 

“Get him what he wants.” Drake said, the irritation in his tone causing the attendant to scurry off towards the curtained-off back of the plane.

 

The damage had already been done, though; King’s next glance was pointedly venomous.Rubbing the palm of his hand over his eyes and wishing that he’d thought of discussing Andrei’s suggestion with the old retainer further, Drake sat down heavily on the divan.King tensed when Drake picked up his right hand, though he didn’t resist when Drake rubbed thumbs up over the gun calluses.

 

“So,” Drake said conversationally, after an uncomfortable silence, “What must I do to make this right?”

 

King stared at him silently, and Drake could tell that the other vampire’s instinctive reaction – to make some sort of cutting jest – was warring with his previously voiced demand to have a ‘little talk’ about equality, and then he said carefully, “I don’t know where to start.”

“Did you want this?” Drake pressed his fingers briefly over the scar on King’s neck, and the vampire twitched, looking wary, and then averted his eyes to the drapes.

 

“Every vampire-”

 

“I am asking _you_.”


	6. A Shade of Infinite [4/4]

**Title:** A Shade of Infinite [4/4]  
 **Fandom:** Blade Trinity, Blood Magic AU  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Pairing:** Drake/Hannibal  
 **Beta:** [](http://retardedcookie.livejournal.com/profile)[**retardedcookie**](http://retardedcookie.livejournal.com/)  - thank you so much! :3 Added some additional stuff after the beta = all remaining mistakes are mine.  
 **Art by:** [](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/profile)[**chosenfire28**](http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/)    
 **A/N:** For [](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[**vampirebigbang**](http://vampirebigbang.livejournal.com/) - Continues from Blood Magic, where Hannibal is also a vampire.  Married life isn't all that it's cracked up to be.

 

“Fine,” King’s temper was easier to deal with, in an odd way, even with dark eyes flashing fire and lips curling back to bare fangs.It was predictable.“Maybe it’s because we all have a little of your goddamn blood inside us, but I fucking wanted it.Happy?”

 

“Do you still want it?”

 

This time, King didn’t hesitate, though his eyes narrowed.“Yeah.Is there a point to this, or do you just like having your ego stroked?”

 

“I asked you a question,” Drake clamped down on his own temper, “Which you have not answered.”

 

“Okay!” King snarled.“I like humans, I hate vampires.I sure as hell wish I had never been turned.That’s the fucking _gist_.”

 

“You like humans,” Drake said thoughtfully, “Yet vampires have little to do with most of this world’s evils.The father who rapes his daughter.The woman stoned to death in Tehran for adultery.The children starving in the Dark Continent when the rest of the ‘free world’ grows fatter from destroying their lands, or sold to slavery in distant countries.”

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Africa called the Dark Continent outside of bad movies,” King sad flatly, but his defiance seemed to be ebbing.“I see your point, all right? And if I ever did meet some fuckhead who rapes his daughter, I won’t treat him any different from a fanghead on the business end of my gun.Though most vampires do seem to take it as their prerogative to be total assholes.Including you.And if you lot ever took over the world, I think the current world’s problems would be the least of it.”

 

“I do not intend to.” Drake pointed out.“That was my original mandate to the House of Erebus, and it has not changed.Co-existence.Secrecy.There are too many humans, and some can use powerful sorcery; they can fly, burn things with their eyes, read minds.A war is not what I want.The ones I choose to form my House of Erebus will not be the most powerful vampires, or the richest, or those that can make vampires turn into demons or walk in the sun.They will be the Clans who understand and respect my mandate.”

 

“I don’t think ‘sorcery’ is what they call it anymore.” King said, nibbling on his own lower lip, his gaze wavering under Drake’s, and Drake leaned in, slowly, to take his kiss and King’s defiance-

 

There was a clatter as the flight attendant placed a white laptop and a jumble of wires on the opposite divan, smiling nervously.“Your laptop, sir.”

 

Drake bit down on a frustrated groan, even as his mate laughed.“Thanks, lady.Leave it there.And if I were you, I’ll leave us alone for the rest of the flight.Now, please.”

 

The attendant scurried away, even as Drake shot her retreating back a murderous stare.The ground began to rumble as the plane started to taxi into the runway, and Drake glanced down as King touched his arm.

 

“I think we’re meant to strap down.” King looked around at the rest of the cabin with some irritation.“Somehow.Maybe with the drapes or whatever.” At Drake’s puzzled frown, King rolled his eyes.“Okay.I do seem to recall now that your own jet didn’t have basic safety features, though admittedly we didn’t come out of the cabin with the bed for the whole trip to Transylvania.” He shifted up against the drapes.“Lie down or something.”

 

Drake did so, scooping King up against him.The other vampire rested his chin on Drake’s chest, then sighed and rubbed his cheek briefly over the patch of skin bared by the shirt.Drake purred, his eyes half-closed, though he wasn’t entirely soothed.King’s mood when meeting the Talos captive had disturbed him.“If she had a cure, would you have taken it?”

 

King froze, then shifted up onto his elbows, watching him silently.Irritated and a little unnerved, Drake rubbed the back of his fingers carefully under King’s chin.“I want to know, Hannibal.”

 

“If she had a cure and had I taken it,” King nuzzled the ridges between his fingers, chapped lips ticklish over his skin, “Would I still be your mate if I were human?”

 

The instinctive ‘no’ choked down in his throat at King’s solemn stare, replaced with a quiet, “La Magra’s law is between vampires.”

 

“I thought _you_ made the law.”

 

“No.” Drake said, and thankfully King seemed content to leave it at that, making as to sit up, but staying put as Drake’s fingers curled over the back of his neck.“Were you human again, you would never be safe.All other vampires-”

 

“For what it’s worth,” King interrupted, “I’m not interested in a cure right now.No more than Blade would be, I think.”

 

“Very well.” Drake said, a little annoyed at the mention of Blade, and King smirked.

 

“Someone’s jealous.”

 

Drake snorted.“Had I smelled Blade on you I would have killed him.”

 

“You know, there’s probably a ‘Caveman’s Anger Management Anonymous’ that you could join out there.” King poked him in the shoulder, then settled down again at his flank, and was silent until the plane had taken off and Drake was dozing, trying to still his instinctive irritation at the constant, annoying drone of the engines and the rumbling hull to his sensitive ears.

 

“So, about this ‘equality’ thing.”

 

“I’m _trying_.” Drake nipped King sharply on the ear, in rebuke, making the other vampire yelp.“ _You_ make it difficult.My Court-”

 

“I don’t want to have anything to do with your Court.You can play house by yourself with all the other vampires for all I care.” King interjected, his eyes narrowed.“I meant between _us_.”

 

“I _said_ I was trying.” He had been High King for a long time, Drake wanted to say, dredging his soldier’s vocabulary for a way to dress up the words in a less petulant way.

 

King, however, surprised him.“Yeah.” The vampire sighed, low and soft.“I guess you have been.”

 

“I want you to believe that it will not change,” Drake pressed, sensing an advantage.“Should anything upset you again, speak with me first.”

 

“And that would fix things _how_? You said it yourself, in the Talos tower.You have a totally different way of looking at humans.”

 

“Convince me otherwise, and we shall see.”

 

“Doesn’t sound promising.” King shot back flatly.

 

“You haven’t done anything but run from me.” Drake pointed out.“I do not… respond well to what seems inevitable.”

 

“Yeah.I guess we have that much in common,” King said wryly, slowly.“Though, were I human and stuck in some dungeon while losing a war, it would _not_ have occurred to me to sacrifice my soul or whatever to a blood god.”

 

Drake shrugged.“It worked.” He rolled over on top of King, planting his hands on either side of the other vampire’s head.“And so?”

 

“So what?”

 

“I am no courtier; when I speak I prefer to be blunt and receive a blunt reply in turn,” Drake said irritably.“I want you by my side.Willingly.I ask again, what must I do?”

 

King shifted experimentally, but Drake refused to budge.Finally, his mate muttered something under his breath and growled.“All right.I want you to work harder at the concept of ‘equality’.That means I’m not your pet, fucktoy or some accessory to be worn on your arm.If I speak my mind, I want you to listen – at the _least_.If you don’t agree with me, I want you to talk to me before overriding me.And if I want to leave for a while, you’re going to have to trust me to come back.” Drake bared his teeth, and King allowed, “But I’ll tell you where I’m going, and I’ll keep my phone on.Happy?”

 

Drake didn’t like it at all, but he _had_ asked for King’s answer; had all but forced it.As resourceful and willful as his mate was, if he flat out refused and kept him confined, Drake knew that it would only be a matter of time before King escaped again.With the whole world to hide in, it could be years before King resurfaced – if ever.No doubt he would already have learned from his mistakes this time.And as much as it hurt Drake’s pride and his instinctive urge to keep his mate always beside him, Drake knew that he had only this one chance.He had met no other vampire like King in all of his centuries since the curse, and he doubted that he would in the future.

 

“You can think about it,” King said, more gently, then blinked rapidly as Drake leant down to claim his mouth, the kiss first roughly possessive, then slowing as King hooked fingers in Drake’s collar and _purred_.

 

“I do not need to.” Drake said, in the air between them.“If that is what it must take.But,” he added, as King gaped at him in surprise, “Do not expect me to get _used_ to it anytime soon.”

 

“Okay,” King said warily, clearly wondering whether to push the point or take what he could for now, and to Drake’s relief, the other vampire relaxed, if grudgingly.“The leopard can change its spots?”

 

“What leopard?”

 

“Nevermind.” King’s hands tucked up under his ribs, pushing lightly.“Move.”Drake rolled onto his back, and King lost no time in straddling him, grinning impishly when Drake growled and rolled his hips roughly against his rump.“It doesn’t look like this plane has any in-flight entertainment.So-”

 

Drake curled his right hand into a fistful of shirt and dragged King down to taste him; fingers dug into his shoulders as King growled, fangs bared as their mouths crushed together, and Drake muffled a snarl as wayward edges sliced up their lower lips and the tip of King's tongue, their blood mingling into a potent cocktail that made him buck forcefully up between his mate's thighs as arousal flared white hot in his veins.  King moaned, lapping into his mouth, refusing to give as their tongues dueled, mouths locked together as they ripped at each other's clothes, forcefully enough that nails scored welting lines on their flesh.  
  
Drake couldn't remember the last vampire - or human - whom he had desired so much.  Occasionally he wondered if King felt the same, or if someone else had seen King so undone, writhing and panting unnecessarily as he licked his own bloody lips and crushed their mouths together again with a low, throaty whine that drew an answering, hungry growl from himself.  The very thought was twisted tight with angry violence.  Drake wanted to kill anyone who had had King so, anyone who King desired in turn.  The predator within him relished the prospect of bloodshed but not the mile wide vulnerability it sensed where King was concerned, didn't like how far Drake was willing to go to keep King beside him.  Even in life, Drake had never been one for half measures.   
  
“Fucking... fuck antique _fucking_ buckles,” King snarled, fumbling Drake's belt and the ornate bronze and gold buckle open and then the button on his pants.  “Like fucking finally.  God.”

 

Drake opened his mouth to make some comment about patience and ended up choking as King shifted back off his hips and bent down, swallowing his arousal in a single smooth, practiced movement that never failed to turn all remaining rational thought in Drake's mind into pure static.  He twisted fingers into King's hair - it was good that it was this long - pushed his mate down further and shoved up into his mouth with a harsh growl that hitched into a moan when King purred, taking him greedily.  

 

His throat clenched tight over Drake's swollen prick even as hands curled hard enough over hips to bruise, and King drew back, slowly, so teasingly slow with those wicked lips stretched tight around him and a smirk clear in the mischievous gleam in King's eyes.  When King sank down again to the hilt, kissing the root of his prick with a teasing brush of chapped lips, Drake's head snapped back against the divan as his hips jerked in King's grasp; he forced his own hands to the couch and away from King's skull to avoid accidents of strength and control.  It was always _so_ good.    
  
King took his time, evidently enjoying his advantage.  Drake hissed as King's throat squeezed tight around the sensitive, thickened head, and then groaned again in a shallow breath as he drew back, tongue curling until it was swirling around the reddened cap and over the folds of skin surrounding it.  When King's tongue dragged over the tip, Drake had to grit his teeth hard to forestall his release, as the ache in his flesh worsened into a painful throb, desire winding tight low in his belly, digging fingers into the cushioned divan hard enough to puncture fabric.  Drake wanted to draw this out; he always did - but just as always, King would always make it a supreme test of Drake's own self-control.    
  
King finally grinned impishly and pulled back with a wet, obscene sound framed by the instinctive, unhappy growl from Drake's throat.  His next command stifled itself as King shrugged impatiently out of the rest of his clothes and straddled his hips again, spreading his legs and angling back, one hand on Drake's knee and the other around Drake's cock, his brow furrowed in concentration.  
  
Gods, he was so beautiful.  
  
“Wait,” Drake said hoarsely, then arched with another choked moan as King ignored him, impaling himself on aching flesh and shuddering as he forced himself down until he was fully seated, his spine snapping straight and the edges of his eyes tightening in pain.  King was still stretched from this morning and wet but it couldn't be comfortable; he was so tight that Drake was reminded of the first time, drugged on violence and frustration and lust feeding off the thrill of the first enjoyable sparring since he had last been human.  His first taste of King that he had yet to sate, even now.  
  
“Fucking Christ this always _fucking hurts_ ,” King muttered breathlessly, his eyes squeezed shut, wincing as Drake sat up to mouth over his shoulders, shivering when lips closed briefly over the bite scar.  Drake stroked big hands up the smooth curve of his back and the corded muscles of his arms to the fingers digging into Drake's thighs, to the long legs splayed to either side of his hips until the tension began to fade and King nipped him on his ear, lapping down to his jaw.  
  
“I told you to wait.”  
  
“Yeah, and if I ever stop liking it this way I'll let you know,” King drawled, with that sultry smirk that was part mischief and part pure sex and Drake kissed him roughly, hands clasped tight over his cheeks and over his ears.  King was squirming in his lap when Drake allowed them to part, eyes glazed with lust and lips swelling; at Drake's smug expression he rolled his eyes, teeth bared, about to bite out something caustic that turned into a yelp as Drake dragged hips up until only the tip of his prick was within him, then forced him back down even as he bucked up in a sharp snap of his hips.  
  
“Jesus wept!” Fingers curled tightly over his shoulders as King drew his knees up beside Drake's hips, garbled invective muttered between them as King shifted in his lap.  When he rocked hard against Drake's hips, King visibly shivered.  “Fuck.  So _fucking_ good...”  
  
“Show me,” Drake commanded, palming up supple muscle to King's ribs to flick callused thumbs over his nipples, and his mate grinned sharply in response, raking nails down his chest hard enough to leave reddened lines, bending to lap up the seeping blood.  Drake growled, rumbling lower as King didn't move, sliding his hands back down to his mate's hips, then frowning as King grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed.  
  
“My show, darlin’,” King purred, his eyes narrowed and dark with challenge.  “All right?”   
  
“ _Move_ , Hannibal.” Drake rocked up roughly and King gasped, then bit him sharply on his jaw in rebuke.  
  
“Patience, Lord Drake.” King smirked as Drake scowled at him.  He didn't like King's games, not always, even if the lips and teeth working their way down his neck to the scar felt so enticingly wicked.  King talked his way through it all the while, in a husky purr of absolute filth that felt like desire's creature, the way it made Drake's lust build into an insistent mandate that was just about to crack his self-control.  “...you feel so goddamned good like this, so deep inside me with your fucking great big cock stretching me wide open-”  
  
“ _Move, Hannibal_!” Drake's snarl hitched as King nipped him lightly over the bite scar, working his teeth just hard enough to sting but not hard enough to break the skin.  “Hells...!”  
  
“You know, mice that get a pellet every time they push a button appreciate it less,” King said, with a mock pout, smirking as Drake bared his teeth.  “Just a thought.  There's a magic word,” King prompted, then snickered when Drake shot him a blank stare.  “Hint: in your favorite language it's ‘ _vă rog_ ’ Or maybe ‘ _te rog_ ’.  I’ve never gotten the hang of formal-informal inflections... shit.” King was frowning at him.  “By the way, I am so not into your demon half.  And I had no idea you could do that with your face.”  
  
Drake controlled himself with an effort, bowing his head.  That had been an... unexpected reaction to King's surprisingly perfect pronunciation.  “Where... where did you learn that?” His patience had thinned to a hair's breadth.Drake was fighting the urge to ignore King's challenge and shove his mate down on the divan.  
  
“What else did you think I was doing in a fucking castle with no Internet access?” King tilted his head, then his grin was all mischief and mayhem.  “The things that push your buttons, darlin’.  Or should I say, ‘ _dragă_ ’...”  
  
“If you do not move right _now_ ,” Drake said carefully, slowly, fingers flexing in the sheets, “I will not be responsible for what I do next.” At King's lazy, defiant smirk and an arched eyebrow, he muttered, “Please.”  
  
“Mother of God but that sounds so fucked up coming from you,” King said gleefully, but he obliged, lifting himself up teasingly slowly, then rolling his hips as he impaled himself back down on Drake's prick, chuckling at Drake's rumbling growl of pleasure as he clenched sweetly tight.   
  
“Faster,” Drake said impatiently, digging nails into King's hips, but King shook his head, keeping it maddeningly deliberate, each snap of his hips hard enough to drag a groan from Drake's lips but far too slow for satiation.  The annoying thrum of the plane's engines had long faded into a background buzz over the numbing roar of blood in his ears.  He wanted more... he needed more.  “ _Hannibal_."”  
  
He didn't realize he had slurred the word until Drake noticed that King was watching him carefully, but even as he tried to clear his throat King abruptly picked up the pace, until he was riding Drake as roughly as he could, meeting every brutal thrust with moans and stuttered curses.  The divan creaked ominously under them both but they ignored it, drunk on their feral, unholy lusts.  “I should have you like this,” Drake growled, as another thrust had King gasp and arch.  “In front of my Court.”  
  
“Kinky bastard,” King retorted, if shallowly, “Remember what I said about.... fuck, _fuck_...” He yelped as Drake's patience finally gave, forcing King down onto the couch and shoving hard into him when King opened his mouth to protest.  Legs wrapped around his waist, and then King was bucking eagerly up against him as an adjustment found the core of pleasure within the other vampire; pretty features slack with ecstasy, eyes wide and dazed.   
  
Drake slammed into King's willing body again and again, unable to dredge up any sort of control to keep an even rhythm, savage and brutal; the divan made a creaking, cracking sound of protest at each violent thrust.  King was snarling, rolling his hips up to meet Drake each moment, fingers clenched on the edges of the divan and his eyes dark and wild.  He all but howled when Drake ground as deep as he could go and sank fangs into King's neck, his body snapping taut under Drake's hands as he came, all unaided.    
  
Drake waited until the trembling eased before attempting to rear back, but King dragged him back down, kissing him until Drake growled insistently, rocking hard between thighs that wrapped tight around his waist.  King offered him a wicked grin before leaning up to whisper roughly into his ear; his growl ceded to a groan as the last of his control broke, into a wordless, primal roar and the most intense completion of his existence.   
  
He woke up curled around King on the hideous bed, the dress pants loose over his hips.  Someone had cleaned him up, and King was sitting cross-legged beside him, reading a thick black book.  He didn't turn around when Drake yawned and stretched.  “It's weird, but I can't stop reading trashy vampire novels.  Character flaw, maybe.”  
  
“You should have woken me." Drake was a little surprised - and not a little disturbed - to realize he had somehow been shifted from the divan to the bed without waking up.  
  
“You're Mister Grumpy when you get woken up.  Also, you weigh a fucking ton.” King turned a page.  “And you broke the wrist of one of the Dragonetti thralls who tried to help me.  In your sleep.  Pretty cool.”  
  
So it hadn't been that his senses had failed him, save where King was concerned.  The predator wasn't sure if it could accept that.  Drake told the predator to shut up, as he dragged himself up onto his elbows and kissed up King's back, over the tight black cotton stretched over lean muscle and up to his neck.  
  
“Say,” King murmured, as Drake nuzzled up the nape of his neck to his jaw, “You're a shapeshifter. So can you wear other faces? What about a full body change, like genders? Or is it one mold per species?”  
  
“This is what I was before I was turned,” Drake said, able to guess where the conversation was going after all this time spent in King's company and not liking it one bit.  
  
“That's not what I meant.” King scratched thoughtfully at his chin. “Next time when we do the nasty, is it possible to, you know, look like-”  
  
“Do _not_ finish that sentence.”

 

XII

 

Abby looked up nervously when Hannibal plopped himself down at the table.The restaurant Butoiul de Aur in Sibiu’s interior was solid brick, and it looked like either a heavy duty wine cellar or a large cell, depending on the reviewer’s mood.Hannibal couldn’t eat any longer, but he did remember liking this place when he had been here once, a long time ago when he had still been human.

 

“Drake was a little weirded out by the menu when I described it to him,” Hannibal said, pointing at the _Piept de pui “Dracula”_ section of the menu involving chicken.“But I recommend it.Just for the extra touristy tackiness.”

 

“No thanks,” Abby said dryly, ordering something forgettable involving fish and a glass of wine.“You don’t drink either, do you?”

 

“I don’t think I can.But I’m not hungry.Or thirsty.How have you been?”

 

“Living with my dad is difficult.” Abby said mildly, as though covering a world of understatement.“But it’s not bad.Blade’s a good sort once you get to know him.”

 

“Won’t talk to save his life but will jump into a mincer to save yours, huh.”

 

“Zoe and Sommerfield are with us now.” Abby took a familiar-looking phone and battery out of her purse, pushing it across the table.“It’s been a year.You never did come back for this.”

 

“I told her I’ll come back for it when I’m free.” Hannibal made no move to touch it.“And I will.”

 

Abby stared at him sharply.“Hannibal…”

 

“Hey, no heroics.I’m here to have dinner with you, and it’s been made clear that you’re a friend.” Hannibal raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender.“But if you’re wondering, yes, I’m not a free agent, and no, it’s not as bad as it was.”

 

“But still bad.” Abby was perceptive.

 

“Bad, but getting better.It’s a castle full of vampires who think they’re hotshots.Still pretty much living off a village of people who don’t know any fucking better.But Drake and I have an understanding.Kind of.” Hannibal said, as Abby retrieved battery and Blackberry.“Though if you see Drake hiding behind one of the fake plants in this place, let me know.”

 

“Your info’s been good.Surely the rest must have been suspicious.”

 

“It’s no secret, and there’s been complaints,” Hannibal shrugged.“But it seems Drake’s policy has always been that vampire hunters are Clan problems and not his.Heard about the Somalia thing.Must have been quite hairy.”

 

“Yeah.Picked up some fresh scars from that one.” Abby said soberly.“ _You_ should be careful.I don’t think you’re untouchable.”

 

“I’ve always been careful.” Hannibal said blithely.There _had_ been a handful of close calls, usually on his private jaunts around the countryside or short trips deeper into Eastern Europe.Drake had even found out about a couple of them.Hannibal had been effectively grounded for _months_ after the Serbian train incident, and he hadn’t even suffered any serious injuries.“Makes life more interesting.”

 

They managed not to talk shop during the rest of dinner, mostly discussing Abby’s constant inability to find a steady boyfriend when shuttling among a set of hidden quarters around the city while living with a paranoid father and a murderous dhampir.After dessert and coffee and the bill, Hannibal walked her towards a waiting car.

 

“Need me to go with you to the airport?”

 

“We can take care of ourselves.” Abby’s demeanor had changed, Hannibal noted, with some approval.She was more confident, more self-assured.She offered him a quick, tight hug, then patted him on the elbow.“Stay safe, King.”

 

“You only say that because you like the free gossip and grub.” Hannibal grinned, as Abby slipped into the car with a backward wave.Watching until it sped out of sight, he pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and rocked back on his heels.Within his right coat pocket was a corked syringe in a velvet packet that Abby had slipped him over dinner.

 

The Cure.

 

Hannibal briefly closed his fingers over it, then glanced up at the sliver of the moon still left in the clouding sky.“It’s been a year.You really should stop stalking me when I go out.”

 

There was a moment of silence, then Drake’s big palm splayed over his back, stroking down to his hip.The High King sniffed disapprovingly, probably at the lingering scents of Abby’s perfume, before nuzzling Hannibal’s left ear.The hint of a fang slid up against the shell of his ear, and Hannibal shuddered, biting down on a purr.

 

“I thought she might try to talk you into going back with her.” A year had improved Drake a little – the High King’s tone was carefully neutral.

 

Hannibal swallowed his instinctive retort, as lips shifted down to his neck, grazing the scar.He too, was learning.Hannibal turned to slant his mouth up into a hard kiss, uncaring of startled tourists or muttering natives; Drake growled, deep in his throat, and crushed him closer.

 

When they parted, Drake stared at him searchingly until Hannibal leaned up to brush a kiss, first against the edge of Drake’s lips, then against his scar, until the tension bled out of broad shoulders and the High King rumbled with pleasure.Letting go of the syringe in its packet, Hannibal pulled back. “C’mon.Let’s go home.”

 

-fin? lol, so long-winded.  Thanks again to my lovely beta and to the understanding mods at vampirebigbang for my terribly late drafts submission. :O Totally forgot about the deadline after the Hokkaido holiday.  
   
  
Regarding airport scene: My colleague at work once got pulled aside by immigration because the person next to him on the plane had spilled curry on my colleague’s jeans.  The dogs went nuts apparently, and he got taken aside to be interrogated.  Melbourne airport uses beagles.-

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Mm. Hope this isn't spammy.


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